


Crossing Destinies

by Lady_Angel_Fanwriter



Category: The Pretender (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Love, Romanticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-10-21 13:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 70,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17644049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Angel_Fanwriter/pseuds/Lady_Angel_Fanwriter
Summary: Jarod is really tired to run from the Centre and wishes to stop for a while. One night he meets a woman capable of touching his soul...Timeline: after the movie Island of the Haunted.(please note English is not my first language; any correction from native speakers is welcome)





	1. Prelude Part 1

 

 

Chapter I: Prelude Part 1

 

Thursday, May 23rd, 10.05 p.m.

 

The bus of the _Greyhound_ lines was old, but still comfortable. While travelling by night on the endless asphalt ribbon, the man sitting alone on one of the front seats dozed uneasily, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ignoring his fellow travellers.

He was a handsome man on his early forties, very tall and with a well-built body; a short mop of brown hair framed his face, which features were at the same time sweet and strong; under a broad forehead, two intelligent, almond-shaped eyes shone, shaded by long black lashes and now veiled by the lowered lids. Two young women, who were journeying together, cast him now and then inviting glances but, to their great regret, he never lifted his gaze.

Jarod was tired. Tired to the point he was feeling all the years of the world on his shoulders. Physically tired, but above all _morally_. Tired of his endless run from the hounds of the Centre, tired of fixing things, hunting down criminals, constantly worrying about other people. Sure, it was in his nature to act as he acted; but he felt the need of a break, of an interlude during which he could think only about himself, restore his strength and renew his energies. For this reason, the day before he had sneaked away from his last lair unusually leaving no hints to Miss Parker and her team, who were hunting him for almost six years. For the same reason, he had chosen to travel on a bus instead of taking a plane, buying the ticket at the last moment so he hadn’t to give his name and address. In this way, he would make them lose his trail for some time, so that he could devote himself a little to his own life, without having to worry about his neighbour, without having to look for his family, from which the Centre had taken him at the age of four for his skills as a Pretender.

His family...

His mother Margaret, first of all, a beautiful and sweet woman; and his sister Emily. He had been hardly able to catch a glimpse of both of them almost five years ago, but he had been forced to run immediately without giving them even a hug because of the Centre’s sweepers, who had singled them out. He could still clearly remind his mother, sitting in the cab that was taking safely away her and Emily, weeping and silently spelling out “ _I love you_ ”...

Some months later, he had discovered he had a brother, Kyle, who, too, had been kidnapped by the Centre and transformed into a killing machine by the nefarious Mr Raines; but Jarod had been able to return Kyle his humanity, to such a point that the young man had sacrificed his own life to save his brother’s. Or so Jarod had believed for about a year: actually, Kyle had been able to get away and had managed to meet his brother again, but the wicked Mr Lyle had killed him, and this time for good, as once again he had saved Jarod’s life. And not only his: from Jarod’s will, Kyle’s heart was donated to a dying boy, who now was living safe and sound.

Three years before, to his great joy, Jarod had met his father, Major Charles Russell. At the same time, he had found out about the existence of a thirteen-years-old clone of himself, created by the Centre to have a _spare tire_ in case something happend to him, Jarod... He wondered if they had ever thought about the possibility he could escape. No, he believed not, they were too arrogant, too self-sure. With his father, Jarod devised a plan and rescued the clone, whom they had called Jay and adopted as a brother and a son; but Jarod had to part from them to make the flight succeed.

He had met Emily again almost two years earlier, saving her from Lyle; in that occasion, he had seen again also his father. Emily told them she had made a disturbing discovery: she and Jarod had a half-brother, Ethan, son of their father and of Miss Parker’s mother. The Centre had impregnated Catherine Parker with Charles Russell semen without their consent or knowledge. As she had realised it, Mrs Parker had fled, staging her suicide with Raines’ deceptive help, as she wanted to give to the innocent child a future away from the Centre. Vain hope: after she had given birth to the child, Raines had killed her in cold blood; then he had entrusted Ethan to a couple and turning the child to exploit it, for Ethan had inherited from his mother the Inner Sense, which was the ability to hear inside his mind voices that could give him advice and assistance. After his dramatic meeting with Jarod and Miss Parker, for some time Ethan had stayed with his half-brother, then he had disappeared, and since then, there had been no news of him.

Jarod took his mind off these thoughts, because they troubled him, and now he needed to relax.

With a sigh, he shifted to find a more comfortable position, and tried to sleep.

 

OOO

 

Erin De Rossi yawned, feeling drowsy. She had been driving for too long, she thought: at the next gas station, she would stop and sleep. In the meantime, to keep herself awake, she chose a CD of Shania Twain, her favourite singer, and set it at a quite high volume, beginning to sing along with her beautiful half-soprano voice.

Singing was only one of the young woman’s many interests. At thirty-seven, she had collected an amazing quantity of experiences, mostly during her teen-age and early youth, thanks to her father, Frank De Rossi, who was a security expert working for CIA. With him, her mother Maureen and her big brother Sean, she had lived in several US States and even abroad, where her father oversaw the security systems of governative buildings such as palaces of justice, embassies, consulates, parliaments. In all these places, she had learned something peculiar, often but not always along with Sean: ice-skating in Moscow, kung fu in Hong Kong, Caribbean dances in Puerto Rico, flamenco in Barcelona, riding in Dallas, ski in Norway, surf in San Diego, street motocycling at the Estoril in Portugal, diving in Cairns, Australia, car racing in Monza, Italy, poker in Las Vegas, billiard in Marseille, and then fencing, shooting – both gun and bow – computer, swimming... So many things, she lost track.

Finally, they assigned his father to a sedentary job for the CIA branch-office in San Francisco and the family stopped at last. At twenty-three, Erin had decided it was time to become independent; among all her interests, she chose to use her love for sport, therefore she had created a gym centre where it was possible to practice almost everything, from fitness to swimming, from martial arts to bow-shooting, from fencing to modern dancing. Thanks to her innate business sense and to her father’s generous investments, in a short time she had become a wealthy woman.

A few years earlier, Frank De Rossi had retired and chosen to settle down in the country, in a ranch about half an hour driving off the town where Erin lived.

Now, Erin was returning from a two-weeks-holiday in Mexico, where she had driven about on her bike, a red Honda VFR 750, enjoying the sun of Baja California. The recent memory made her smile: this had been the third time in eighteen months she had gone off alone, something unthinkable, _before_. Yeah, _before..._ before her ex husband decided to leave her without a reason on Earth. Erin had suffered the hell through, unable to accept the end of her marriage, refusing to do so. She had put her all in this relationship, and for six long months, she had tried everything to recuperate it, but from the other side there had been no correspondence. In the end, Erin had given up. By now, divorce was done, and the only satisfaction she had had out of it had been to make her ex pay for the whole thing. _If you want divorce, you manage it alone_ , she had told him, _I won’t pay a dime nor move a finger_. Luckily, being far-sighted, she had had the good sense to make a prenuptial agreement, so her ex couldn’t demand anything. Besides, even more luckily, from the marriage had come no children: at least, there were no innocents to pay for the adults’ mistakes.

Al last, the terrible pain she was feeling subsided and stopped, and one day, suddenly, by her own amazement she had discovered that she had grown two big _attributes_ or, more likely, they had always been there, but not knowing it, she had never used them. With unsuspected strength of character, she had thrown herself in her new life, daring things she had never dared before, like for instance travelling alone, and discovering she liked being psychological independent from everything and everyone. Yes, she felt really better alone than with her ex husband. However, with the merciless honesty to herself characterising her, Erin admitted that, sometimes, the loneliness of the heart was hard to bear, and she had begun to wish for her to meet someone. But, at the same time, she knew she was terrified of the idea she could maybe have to endure again the trial she had already gone through; not of the risk in itself – she understood very well that every relationship involves it – but of the possibility to be unable to bear again that tearing pain...

 

In front of her appeared the rear-lights of a _Greyhound_ bus. Erin slowed down gradually, adjusting her speed: her motorhome, towing a trolley with her motorcycle, couldn’t pass it easily, and anyway the next gas station was only a few miles away, so she could wait.

Keeping the right distance from the heavy vehicle ahead of her, Erin went on driving and singing.

 

OOO

 

A sensation of imminent danger tore Jarod out of his doziness. He jumped up sitting to look outside the window, but there was absolutely nothing to see: in the silvery gleam of the almost full moon, the Californian vast countryside was completely deserted and there was not even a single light to see. His gaze moved forwards, in the direction where the bus was going: the lights of a big truck were coming from the opposite lane.

Then, everything happened at dreadful speed.

The truck suddenly skidded and invaded the opposite lane. The bus-driver braked hard and steered sidewards, but it was too late: the two big vehicles collided violently and the bus was pushed off road. The passengers yelled in sudden terror, flung out of their seats in every direction.

Jarod felt a sharp pain in his hip, but moving cautiously he realised he had no broken bones. All around him, he heard moans and calls of hurt people. With an effort, he got up sitting; he knocked his head against a contorted piece of bodywork and uttered a cry of pain.

“Help me... help me...” a female voice was imploring next to him. Jarod turned and saw an elderly woman, her forehead stained with the blood of a superficial cut, lying limp on the seat behind his.

“Don’t move”, he exhorted her, “I’ll take you out of here.”

He crawled towards the driver, but he saw immediately that there was nothing to be done for him: a shard of the windshield had deeply pierced his head, killing him.

The bus was heavily sloped on its right side; Jarod tried to operate the door opening, but it was blocked, so he took off his leather jacket, wrapped it around his arm and hit the window with his elbow; the glass shattered in thousand pieces. Fumbling with the outer handle, he finally managed to open the door.

He went back to the wounded woman.

“Come on, hold on to me”, he told her. The elderly woman moaned and grasped his arms; gently, Jarod lifted her and helped her to gain the exit.

“You’re an angel”, the old lady murmured, as he helped her sitting down on the grass. Jarod gave her a reassuring smile, then returned back: who knows how many more other injured people were there, needing his help to get out...

 

OOO

 

Horrified, Erin witnessed the crash. She braked hard, operating the ABS; weighted by the trolley, the motorhome skidded, but thanks to the young woman’s driving skills it stopped in time.

She unfastened the security belt and jumped off, running at breakneck speed towards the truck cockpit. The driver was pinned by the air bag and looked under shock; Erin opened wide the door:

“Are you hurt?” she asked. The man stared at her with glassy eyes, unable to understand what she was saying; she stood on the footboard and slapped him to call him back. He jerked and blinked.

“I’m fine”, he grumbled, “I’m fine...”

“Okay”, Erin said, “Get off from here and come help me, if you can.”

She jumped down and headed for the bus, which had landed askew a little hillock and was very sloped on one side. Through the windshield, she caught the unlucky driver’s bloody face and looked away, in pity and horror. Addressing a prayer to God for the poor man’s soul, she reached the door, which someone had opened already, the same moment a very tall man was emerging from the inside, holding a boy of maybe six years in his arms.

Erin felt as if a hammer hit her head and, for a second, her sight became foggy. She shook her head to clear it and stretched out her arms:

“You need help?” she asked. The man seemed to hesitate, staring at her for a long moment; then he handed over his burden.

“Thank you”, he said, going back into the vehicle. The young woman moved away swiftly, while the child was weeping desperately.

“Good boy, good boy, it’s all over”, she whispered in a soothing way.

“My mommy!” the boy sobbed, “Where’s my mommy?”

“Give it to me, miss”, she heard a voice. Turning around, Erin saw an elderly lady sitting on the ground and beckoning her. She walked over to her and entrusted her the child; the old woman sweetly reassured the boy:

“You’ll see, our guardian angels here will soon take your mommy to you...”

Erin returned hastily to the bus door and was about to get in, but seeing that the former man was coming back, this time with a woman, she gave him priority.

“There are more people”, said Jarod, looking at the beautiful brunette who had come to their aid, “Be careful, she’s very weak”, he recommended her, speaking about the woman he was supporting, who was staggering and could barely stay on her feet; he made sure that Erin could carry her away, then went inside again. A youth of about twenty years had one leg bent in an innatural way, stuck under one seat.

“Has to be broken”, said the youngster, gritting his teeth. From the paleness of his face, Jarod realised he was suffering a lot, and regretted having to inflict him more pain.

“I must get your leg off... it will hurt”, he warned him, “Sorry.”

He pulled and pushed the seat, trying to root it out or at least to move it, but he didn’t succeed. Erin came up behind him.

“I will pull him out”, she said, “You try to keep the seat elevated.”

Jarod propped his feet on the floor and pulled the seat with all his strength; Erin grasped the youth under his arms and dragged him away. The movement made him shout in pain, but at least he was free. Jarod took him gently by the knees and, with Erin, he carried him outside, where they laid him down on the grass.

Meanwhile, the truck-driver had arrived, and he was looking at the disaster in shock.

“Oh my God...” he whispered, shaken.

“Don’t stay there gaping!” Erin addressed him roughly, wanting to shake him, “Help this man”, she pointed at Jarod, “There are injured people to take out from the bus.”

Jarod fished his cell phone out of his pocket – luckily he didn’t crush it while smashing the glass – turned it on and threw it to Erin:

“Call 911.”

The young woman caught the phone and quickly dialled the number. She reported accurately what had just happened, asking for intervention of ambulances and firefighters, and they answered her that aid would be on site within eight minutes. Then, Erin stored the phone in her pocket – it was a very modern and expensive satellite phone – and went back to help Jarod and the truck-driver while taking off people from the bus. They determined that there were unfortunately two more dead, beside the driver: a middle-aged mand and a teenage girl.

A little later, they heard in the distance the sirens of several emergency vehicles. In a few minutes, doctors, paramedics, firefighters and police officers turned up, taking over the situation with great efficience. Jarod, Erin and the truck-driver got out of the way, leaving the aid operations to the experts.

A few minutes later, they heard the noise of a helicopter approaching, a big spotlight on the site of the accident. Erin lifted her gaze and, in the moonlight, caught the initials of a network.

“Damned reporters!” she swore, annoyed, “They’re constantly listening on the frequencies of police and hospitals, ready to jump like vultures on things!”

Jarod, who once had pretended to be a cameraman in order to help another one who had had a paralysed arm because of the lack of scruples of a so-called assault newsman, substantially agreed with her, of course with the due exceptions. Right now, he had to avoid at any cost to be filmed, otherwise the Centre, constantly monitoring the media transmissions, would spot him immediately. He moved towards the truck, hiding himself from the helicopter.

Erin noticed his move and shot him a piercing glance. She guessed he didn’t want to be filmed and, because she didn’t like it either, she followed him. Jarod watched her in surprise as she beckoned him to go with her. He followed her to a large motorhome on three axles, where she invited him to climb on, taking shelter from prying eyes.

“Thank you”, Jarod told her, “I hate cameras”, he added as an explanation.

Erin turned on the light and returned his gaze with an impenetrable face:

“I’m sure you’ve got your good reasons.”

He realised his justification hadn’t been convincing. Odd, because people usually took his words, it was one of his best Pretender skills...

“That’s right”, he admitted therefore, cautiously, “Anyway, I can guarantee you on my honour that I am not a criminal, Miss...?”

“Erin De Rossi”, the young woman answered, ”If I had only the smallest suspect you could be a criminal, I wouldn’t help you for sure, Mister...?”

“Jarod”, he introduced himself, extending his hand, “Jarod O’Donnell.”

He didn’t know why he had picked up precisely an Irish name, right on the spot; a choice he thought casual, but later it would taste like predestination. Anyway, he took it with the spontaneity due to his consolidated habit to adopt false names to divert the hounds of the Centre, and also because until not too long ago he hadn’t even known his family name, Russell.

Surprise flickered on Erin’s face and, for a moment, Jarod feared she had guessed he had given her a false name; but then she smiled and shook hands with him:

“Nice to meet you, Mister O’Donnell, even if the circumstances are not the best.”

“Only Jarod”, he invited her, because in any case he wanted to use as little as possible the false names he took, “My pleasure.”

The hand she had given him was small and tapered and looked delicate, but her handshake was strong and resolute like a man’s one. Jarod felt that the young woman in front of him, wearing jeans and T-shirt, was a girl full of surprises. Now that he could take a good look at her, he discovered that she was really beautiful: not very tall, a really female, hourglass-shaped body, very long hair of a shiny brown, thick and smooth, picked up in a high ponytail, long eyes of a warm walnut colour, pleasantly tanned complexion.

He realised that he was holding her hand far too longer than needed; but anyway, she didn’t make a move to withdraw it either. Slightly embarrassed, he let it go.

“I need something strong”, Erin said, “Do you want a drink, too, Jarod?”

“Whisky, thank you”, he accepted; now that the adrenaline in his blood was returning to a normal level, he felt a little stunned, and a little alcohol would cheer him up.

“Good”, she said, then she reminded something, “Here, your cellphone.”

She gave him back his mobile, then she moved towards the centre of her motorhome, where the kitchenette was located; she opened a small cupboard and took out a bottle of an amber liquid, and two glasses. She placed everything on the table and signalled to Jarod to take a seat, doing it herself before pouring the whisky. Jarod noticed that it was _Jameson’s_ , an Irish brand, instead of classic American bourbon. Looking at the interior of the motorhome, he saw that it could accommodate up to seven people, and wondered why Erin was journeying alone in such a big craft. He would learn later that it was because she loved to be very comfortable.

“You were moving around with great efficience”, Jarod declared, after the first sip, “Did you have similar situations already?”

“Far too many times”, Erin answered with a wry face, “I volunteered on ambulances for six months, a few years ago. Car accidents were the most frequent reason of intervention.”

She had found this experience very useful under many points-of-views, first of all the human solidarity. It had enriched her much as a person.

Someone knocked at the motorhome door.

“Who’s there?” Erin asked.

“The police”, was the answer, “We would like to ask you a few questions.”

The young woman crossed to the door and opened it; two police officers, a male and a female, came in. Seeing Jarod, they greeted him with a nod.

“Which one of you was driving?” the policewoman asked, producing a pen and a notebook, evidently thinking that the two were travelling together.

“I was”, Erin answered, not worrying about the officer’s supposition.

“What did you see, ma’am?”

“Little or nothing: the truck suddenly skidded, I think because the driver was sleepy, and I immediately braked. Then I heard a deafening crash, and realising what had happened, I stopped to help.”

“And you did a really good job”, the policeman smiled, “There’s a lady talking about two brown angels: I think she’s referring to you two.”

Erin smiled, recalling the elderly woman to whom she had entrusted the child Jarod had handed her over.

“We only did our duty as responsible citizens”, she said humbly. The policewoman, too, smiled in appreciation, and turned to Jarod:

“And what did _you_ see, sir?”

“I was travelling on the bus”, Jarod answered, to explain the situation: he guessed they were thinking he and Erin were husband and wife, or at least fiancés, “I, too, saw the truck slipping and coming toward us; our driver braked and steered, but it wasn’t enough to avoid the impact, and the bus went off road. I realised at once that the poor man was dead, and I began to help the injured people. Miss De Rossi arrived immediately afterwards and helped me, and the truck-driver, too, gave a hand.”

The policewoman wrote swiftly and ended soon her report.

“I need your names and phone numbers”, she said then. Erin gave her name and family name and her cell number. When it was his turn, Jarod declared the false name he had already used for Erin and invented on the spot a phone number.

“Thank you, ma’am, sir”, the policeman said, “Mister O’Donnell, are you sure you don’t need any medical assistance?”

“I’m fine”, he answered, even if his hip was actually still hurting.

“Very well, then that’s all for the time being”, the officers took their leave. Erin walked them to the door, then came back and sat again.

“Where are you going, Jarod?” she asked casually, picking up her glass.

“In no particular place”, he answered, “Northwards.”

Erin stared at him with that piercing gaze of hers and Jarod felt uneasy, as if she was reading inside of him.

“You cannot run forever from your past”, she said in a low voice, almost as if speaking to herself. He felt the urge to tell her that he was not running from his past, on the contrary, he was desperately searching for it... but he couldn’t tell her anything of this.

“It’s true, but sometimes you need a rest”, he said instead. Erin thought about that for a moment, then nodded:

“Yes, you’re right. Well, it’s clear that you cannot go anywhere on that bus now. I’m going to San Francisco: do you want a lift?”

Her suggestion caught him by surprise.

“And you would trust a perfect stranger to journey with you?” he inquired, not hiding his perplexity. Erin grinned mischievously:

“At the first discourtesy, I’ll push the eject button”, she assured him, and he chuckled amused.

“But aren’t you afraid that I may rob you?” he insisted, sobering, “Or worse...”

“Would I’ve been afraid of this, I wouldn’t have offered you to travel with me”, she anwered him, shrugging, “But know this: I have a gun and I can use it very well; furthermore, I am kung fu black belt.”

Jarod laughed heartly:

“Well, now I’m sure that you don’t need to worry about anything!”

“I see you got it”, she commented, amused, “So, what about it?”

Jarod thought quickly of the advantages he could have travelling with Erin: point one, restarting the trip with _Greyhound_ would mean, this time, giving them his complete datas, true or false they may be, because being involved in an accident the bus company would be forced to call in the insurance for the indemnity. He wasn’t interested in receiving a reward for the suffered discomfort; it was far more important not to attract the attention of the authorities, for in this case the Centre would easily spot him. Accepting Erin’s proposal would save him many problems... not counting that he was sure her company would be very pleasant.

“That’s fine, Erin: I accept gladly”, he told her, “but only if you’ll share the costs.”

“You don’t need to...”

“I insist.”

She shrugged:

“Okay, as you wish.”

“Fine. So, I go and take my luggage.”

He went off the motorhome and Erin was alone for some time. She wondered absent-mindedly what could have convinced her to invite him to join her: she didn’t know him at all, and she was sure like hell that he was hiding something. However, somehow she felt that she could trust him, and usually her instinct didn’t deceive her. Anyway, she could sleep with her gun under the pillow, just as a precaution...

Jarod returned a few minutes later with a metallic case and a travel bag. Erin showed him where he could store them, then invited him to sit on the passenger seat and got back behind the steer. The truck had been moved aside, enough to restore the traffic on an alternate one-way, so they could pass.

“Before the accident, I was thinking to stop for the night”, Erin said, “but after what happened I’m not sleepy any more.”

“Now I couldn’t sleep a wink, either”, Jarod confirmed.

“Good, we’ll go on for a while, and then you can drive, or we’ll stop to sleep.”

They travelled for some time, then at about one o’clock in the night Erin began to feel her eyes grow heavy.

“ _Tengo somno_ ”, she muttered in Spanish, the language she had used until that very morning, and yawned. Even if she had spoken more to herself than to him, Jarod heard her and smiled:

“ _Yo tambièn_ ”, he said, in the same language, “You speak Spanish, I see.”

“Yeah”, she answered shortly, “Better stop and sleep, I’d say.”

A little ahead, she found a layby, pulled over and turned off the engine.

“Come, lets prepare your bed”, Erin exhorted Jarod. He glanced at the backside of the motorhome.

“Aren’t you afraid someone could take away your motorcycle, or even the whole trolley?” he asked. She smiled, thinking it was kind of him to worry about the security of her belongings:

“Never fear: to cut the trolley bolt they’d need an oxy-hydrogen flame, and if they touch my bike, in here an alarm would ring that would wake up the dead.”

Jarod returned her smile:

“I see you don’t forget anything.”

“When a woman travels alone, she has to prevent every even potential dangerous situation”, she said as she rummaged through a chest, avoiding to explain that the long intimacy with the security measures in the places she used to live had prepared her almost to everything, “Here we are”, she said then, handing to Jarod sheets, blanket and pillow. He took them, walked over to the single bed on the right side of the motorhome, in front of the entrance, and started to prepare his bed.

“Tomorrow morning you can store your things in this closet”, Erin said, showing him the piece of forniture to the right side of the entrance, “And there’s the bathroom.”

It was a small room of about 8’ by 4’4” ( _author’s note: m 2.50 by 1.30_ ), placed behind the cockpit, containing a shower box, a toilet and a washbasin.

“If you want to take a shower, you have to settle for cold water”, she told him, “We’ll have hot water only when we’ll stop on a camping place.”

“For one night I won’t die”, Jarod smiled.

“Very well”, she smiled him back, “I’ll brush my teeth and go to bed.”

She did so, then she withdrew to the opposite end of the motorhome, where the double bed in which she slept was located. To preserve privacy, it was provided with a sliding wooden panel isolating the niche; having so far always journeyed alone, Erin had never used it, but now she closed it, because she had no intention to take off her clothes in front of a stranger, nor to see him take off his. Well, this wasn’t exactly true, she had to admit to herself, with the frankness characterising her: Jarod looked very well built, and surely seeing him half naked would have been an eye-candy. Laughing at herself, she put on her short pyjamas, suitable to the hot climate of southern California, and went to sleep.

 


	2. Chapter II: Prelude Part 2

 

Chapter II: Prelude Part 2

 

Friday, May 24th, 07.10 a.m.

 

The following morning, Erin woke up quite early, as it was her habit. Even if she had slept far less than usual, she had rested well, and this surprised her, in view of the previous evening’s facts. Well, all the better, she thought, opening the sliding panel trying to make no noise.

Jarod was already awake, seated on the bed with only his jeans on; he had opened his metallic case and placed it in front of him, and he was looking at its content. From the pale iridescent luminosity dancing across his face, Erin assumed it was a laptop computer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jarod saw the movement and lifted his gaze to his amazing host.

“Good morning”, he said friendly, and noticing her puzzled look, he hurried to find a quick explanation, “You caught me at work: I’m an on-line consultant of software programs.”

“Oh!” she commented, flinging her legs out of bed. She didn’t worry about getting dressed before: living closely in the narrow space of the motorhome, they would inevitably catch each other in scanty clothes, sooner or later, so it was better beginning at once to forget some useless modesties. Anyway, even Jarod didn’t worry about getting dressed completely, she noticed, and so maybe he had already thought by himself about the topic.

“Full breakfast?” she asked him. Jarod closed the suitcase before answering her with a smile:

“Yes, gladly: I’m hungry.”

As Erin busied herself at the stove, he made carefully his bed, then began to store his belongings in the wardrobe she had shown him the night before.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked him, shaking the non-stick frying pan in which she was cooking two eggs. Jarod saw that her hair was very long, reaching past the middle of her back.

“Very well, thanks. You, too?”

“Yes, and I’m surprised about it, because I was expecting nightmares.”

“Because of yesterday evening?”

“Yeah. You know, I’m easily affected. I don’t even look at horror movies!” Erin laughed, with a certain auto-irony that Jarod appreciated.

“As for this, I don’t look at them, either”, he admitted, “I prefer far more adventurous movies, especially science fiction.”

“Really? I’m a big _Star Trek_ fan, but I like _Star Wars_ , too..”

As they breakfasted with eggs, bacon, cereals and pancakes with maple syrup, sipping a deliciously aromatic coffee, they chatted with great enthusiasm about those two sagas, true milestones of the science fiction genre.

Afterwards, Jarod offered to wash up and Erin took advantage of it to freshen up and get dressed.

“It strikes you!” she panted, coming out from the bathroom and referring to the cold water, “But it gives you a real energy blow.”

“I’ll try it, too”, Jarod said; the first spout left him breathless, but he agreed with Erin.

They resumed travelling shortly after nine o’clock and began chatting again. Science fiction is a topic that, branching in an endless quantity of matters, makes one often jump from one thing to another; so it was for Jarod and Erin who, without knowing exactly why, found themselves speaking about music, sport, TV shows, but also about drugs, racism, occultism, topical news, and then about cars and motorcycles, fashion, even about make-up. They passed Los Angeles and noon arrived in a flash; the young woman slowed down and stopped the motorhome at an equipped layby.

“Do you like Italian cuisine?” she asked, getting off. Jarod nodded:

“I’m fond of _penne all’arrabbiata_ ( _author’s note: very spicy pasta-treat_ ).”

She thought about it for one second, then smirked:

“I can arrange that.”

Her father’s parents, she told him, arrived in America from Italy in the Thirties, and she had learned to cook Italian from her grandmother Francesca; she knew very well also Irish cuisine because her mother Maureen came from Connemara, a county in the south-west of the Emerald Island.

Because it was pleasant to eat outside, she asked him to set one of the wooden tables with benches that stood on a shady meadow around the layby, using a plastic cloth and paper crockery. Within half an hour, she served very spicy _penne all’arrabbiata_ : the first bit filled Jarod’s eyes with tears, and he fumbled in search of a piece of bread. Erin looked at him, worried:

“Too spicy?”

“You’re kidding!” he panted, swallowing fire, “I adore tongue-burning food!”

Seeing that she was even more worried, he swiftly reassured her:

“No, I mean it for good; as a matter of fact, I adore also Mexican cuisine and I can have _jalapeños_ as a starter.”

Relieved, Erin went on eating; they drank red wine, just a sip because they had to drive, and much water.

After throwing the garbage in the dedicated trashcans, they resumed their journey; Jarod insisted to take her over driving and she accepted, glad to be able for once to relax on one of the comfortable passenger seats. She turned on the stereo, choosing a CD of Tina Turner, a compilation of old and new hits, and soon she began singing softly. Noticing that Jarod seemed to appreciate it, Erin adjusted the stereo controls, taking off almost completely the original voice so she could sing on the tunes; it was the turn of _We Don’t Need Another Hero_ , a quite aggressive rock that required a scratching voice. The next song was _Dancer For Money_ , very sweet and somewhat sad, to which she gave a suffered and moving performance.

Erin’s skill in performing the different musical situations amazed Jarod; it was as if she would change skin every time, and his mind came up with the disquieting thought that she could be a potential Pretender.

At the end of the second piece, he sighed with a little envy and said:

“I wish I could sing like you.”

“So try it out!” she invited him lively, “Or are you tone-deaf?”

“I don’t know”, Jarod confessed innocently, “I never sing.”

Erin looked askance at him, incredulous:

“Not even under the shower?”

Jarod frowned and returned her gaze:

“No, really”, he declared, with a face that looked like _why, one sings under the shower?_ Erin blinked: she was even more perplexed. It wasn’t the first time Jarod seemed... odd to her.

“But where are you coming from, Mars?!”, she asked him playfully. Jarod thought amused about all the times he had been asked this very question: nobody knew how much he or she were near the truth, even if not in a literal sense.

“No, even if the place I’m coming from doesn’t seem of this world”, he answered, giving to his voice a playful tone to make her believe that it was just a joke, “Would you teach me?”

“To sing? Well, I may try, on condition that you are in tune. By ear, you should be a baritone, but you could be also a low tenor. To verify it, you have to try and make some vocalisms; just follow my voice.”

Erin trained his voice on different combinations of notes. It turned out that Jarod was a high baritone, meaning the capability to digress lightly on the tenor.

“They tried to make me study piano as a young girl”, she told him laughing, “but I hated it, and after two years they yielded.”

Well, so there was _something_ that she wasn’t able to do, Jarod thought amused. Some more time and he would begin to think that there was nothing this extraordinary girl couldn’t do.

Then, Jarod tried to sing something he knew well, with Erin performing the leading voice.

“You are talented”, the young woman told him in the end, smiling at him. He felt like melting down at the heat of her smile and, for a moment, he just looked in her eyes, as if charmed, before remembering he was driving and it was quite better if he kept his gaze on the road.

For a long time, he kept asking himself what the queer sensation he had begun to feel in his stomach might be.

 

OOO

 

They arrived in San Francisco in the late afternoon. Erin lived at about one and a half hour from the metropolis located on the famous bay and she could have gone on with no problems until reaching home, but something got her to ask him:

“You’ve never been in Frisco?”

Jarod had been many times in this big town, one of the most fascinating in the United States, during the years following his escape from the Centre, but he had never been able to visit it properly.

“A few times, for business”, he answered therefore, and this wasn’t so far from the truth, “But I never stopped long enough to sightsee it.”

“I wouldn’t come and live here – I don’t like metropolis – but it’s a very beautiful town”, she declared, and then added impulsively, “I know a camping place right on the bay: if you like, we can stop there and tomorrow I’ll take you to see the most picturesque places.”

Jarod flashed her a smile:

“If it’s not too much trouble...”

“If it was, I wouldn’t make you the offer”, she replied, frowning: maybe he had no wish to prolong their meeting but was too polite to say it straightaway... Damn, one time she had met a truly interesting guy...

“Anyway, if you don’t want to, you have only to say it”, she concluded, using a rougher tone than she had intended. Jarod realised he had somehow offended her and quickly declared, sincerely:

“No, no, I’d love to... It’s true!” he emphasised, perceiving her dark glare. Finally convinced, she smiled at him, suddenly in better spirits. The short exchange made him realise that Erin had a character that got easily upset, but in the same easy way got... _down_ set. He decided she wasn’t one to bear a grudge, because she had a sunny personality, shining, passionate and generous.

It was pointless denying it any more: he liked her.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the camping place; after the small formalities required at the reception, Erin parked the motorhome on the spot they had chosen, and her skill in manoeuvring the large vehicle, including the trolley, impressed Jarod.

The camping place was very nice, having been earlier the garden of a luxury Nineteenth Century residence; huge trees shaded it, mostly sycamores and oaks, but there were also birches and willows, growing on a large lawn carefully mown; there was a big swimming-pool and a sunbathing area, equipped with deck-chairs and beach-umbrellas, and a snack bar.

“I go for a swim”, Erin announced, pointing to the pool they could see not far away, “Are you coming?”

“Sure!”

Erin changed first, and when she got off the motorhome, Jarod could not help but stare at her in plain admiration: she wore a very simple one-piece swimsuit, which highlighted her hourglass-shaped figure, and the fluorescent colours emphasised her tanned complexion; the low braid in which she had gathered her wonderful brown hair gave her a very young look.

Noticing his stare, Erin opened her mouth to tell him _calm down, boy_ , but, watching better, his face seemed to her more the face of a teenager in adoration of a beautiful woman, rather than the face of an adult man trying to make a move. She thought this was really odd, because Jarod was unmistakably a full-grown man, surely closer to his forties than to his thirties, but she felt disarmed and chose to hold her tongue, sensing that if she didn’t, she would embarrass him heavily.

Jarod was finally able to recover and climbed in to change. When he came out, it was Erin’s turn to feel stunned and stare at him: if dressed he looked like a model, with only his swim trunks he was a Greek statue. He had to work out hard... Anyway, being smart enough, she was able to hide her agitation without difficulty under a cool smirk, but walking by his side to the swimming pool, she couldn’t help but look sideways at him a few times. Many women turned to stare at him while he was passing, and Erin saw that he didn’t notice it at all. Was it for modesty or for habit?, she wondered, but instinctively she inclined to believe the first hypothesis. Anyway, for the same reason she didn’t notice the men who turned to look at _her_.

But Jarod noticed them, and felt suddenly jealous: how did they dare to look at her _that way_? He wondered perplexed about the reason of his reaction: he knew her barely for twenty-four hours, he didn’t know anything about her, and those men after all were only _gazing_. It was surely not a crime. So why was he yearning to punch them on the nose?

They arrived at the swimming pool and Jarod gave up examining the topic, fearing he would only make a headache out of it. As a matter of fact, Sydney, his mentor at the Centre, had taught him that often questioning too much one’s feelings brings only more confusion; therefore, it’s much better accepting them as they are, and sooner or later the answer comes by itself.

Erin swam very well, with long regular strokes, and showed a resistance that put Jarod on a hard trial.

“Hey, where did you learn?” he asked her, out of breath, when they stopped, “You’re a fish!” he looked at her better, “No, I should say a mermaid”, he corrected in a gallant tone.

“My father said it, either”, she laughed, not embarrassed at all by the compliment, “Anyway, I lived fourteen months in Munich, near the Olympic Quarter. There they call it the _Olympiagelände_. The swimming pool was within walking distance from my house, so I devoted myself to swimming, and from that moment on I never ceased.”

Jarod recalled that the Munich Olympic Games had been in 1972 and that Mark Spitz, an American swimmer, had won seven gold medals in the different swimming disciplines, breaking all previous records and remaining still unbeaten as for number of victories in the same Olympiad.

Those Olympic Games had witnessed also a terrible tragedy: a terroristic _fedaykin_ commando had slaughtered eleven Israeli athletes. Jarod’s Pretences had been useless to point out the culprits... but now he suspected that they had been used more to hide their trail than to find them: the Centre could have been likely paid for it by the terrorists.

“I understand you travelled much all around the world”, he said.

“Enough”, Erin confirmed, “My father worked for the government and we – my mother, my brother and I – followed him wherever they sent him. I took advantage of it by learning something particular in each place we went to, included a few languages.”

“Indeed, yesterday night you spoke Spanish: what other tongues do you know?”

“Italian and Irish Gaelic, obviously, from my parents; and then German, French, Portuguese, and also a little Japanese and Russian.”

“Wow!” Jarod muttered, once more impressed by that incredible girl, “And what did you learn, in the Countries speaking those languages?”

“Oh well... many things”, Erin answered, feeling suddenly embarrassed: what if he thought she was boasting? She decided to divert their chat:

“And what about you?”

“Oh, I speak Spanish, French and Russian”, Jarod answered vaguely, but thanks to his Pretender skills he potentially knew many more, “but I have never been abroad, safe once. I must say that I’d love really much visiting other Countries, meeting people with different customs and habits, seeing new places...”, _where the Centre is not there to hunt me_ , he added by himself, with sudden, stinging bitterness, which he carefully hid. But Erin possessed formidable capability to read into one’s soul, so she noticed it all the same, and could not help but wonder about the reason of it.

“Travelling enriches you much”, she asserted, trying to turn him away from what were, by any evidence, sad thoughts, “The secret is accepting the diversity without judging, and adapting to the local way of living without being amazed or shocked about anything. The traveller’s vade-mecum is essentially summarised by the motto: _When in Rome do as the Romans do_.”

Jarod nodded to show he agreed, then changed subject:

“May I ask you what you do for a living?”

Seeing her frowning, he quickly added:

“Hey, you don’t need to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

Erin smirked to reassure him:

“No, no... I was only wondering about how they are managing it without me. I think as good as usual, it’s not the first time that I take two weeks off... Well, I own a gym, and I like my job very much. But to tell you the truth”, she added impulsively, not knowing exactly why she was doing it, “my secret dream is to be a writer.”

“Really?” Jarod said, thinking of the romantic novel he wrote under a pseudonym a few years earlier, dedicating it to Miss Parker, “And what do you write, science fiction?”

“No, I’m more inclined to fantasy, because SF requires technological notions that I don’t possess. With fantasy instead I can pen my fancies without fearing writing foolishness because I lack the basis.”

That very morning they had talked also about this literary genre, Jarod recalled, and about the authors who both preferred, finding themselves very close in tastes.

“And what kind of fantasy do you write?” he asked, vividly interested.

“Heroic fantasy”, she answered, chuckling, “This means, going around fencing with a big sword... except that my latest heroine is not only a formidable swordswoman, but also a healer. Or, if you prefer, first she slices you and then she sews you whole again!”

Jarod burst into laughter, but he suspected that this heroine was very alike her creator.

“I’d like to read something of yours”, he declared, meaning it. Erin shook her head:

“Thanks for your interest, but I have nothing with me, and in any case I allow only very few and very intimate people reading my writings.”

She said it in such a definitive tone that Jarod was dissuaded to insist; realising she had been too rough, Erin smiled to apologise.

“I’m hungry”, she announced, clutching the gangway to get off the water, “And you?”

“Sure I am!”

Going back to the motorhome, Jarod realised that she had avoided asking him more details about _his_ doings, and wondered if this lack of curiosity was indifference or discretion; intuition told him it was the second one.

For dinner, they decided to have a barbecue, of which Jarod took care, while Erin prepared some salad. Once again, they ate outside, using the table and the pliable chairs contained in the large baggage van of the motorhome. Giving it a casual glance, Jarod commented:

“Nice motorcycle.”

“True”, Erin confirmed, glad about his interest, “even if my real love would be for super-sport bikes. But those are suitable for circuits, or short and winding journeys, surely not for the large and straight American roads and their long distances. So I chose this one, which is a good compromise between a sport and a touristic bike.”

Motorcycles were the subject of the evening, and Jarod discovered that Erin knew about them far more than him; growing up in the Centre’s aseptic environment, he had been educated without any prejudice of race, religion or gender, but he knew that in the _outer world_ it was unusual to find a woman having an interest in such a subject. Thinking it better, Erin had an interest in many subjects unusual for a woman: besides motorcycles, also racecars, firearms and martial arts, and who knows how much more that he didn’t yet even imagine. His curiosity and admiration for this uncommon girl grew even more.

At a certain moment, Erin glanced at her watch and said:

“I go and have a look at today’s news.”

Having seen no television receiver in the motorhome, Jarod looked at her perplexed as she climbed in and decided to follow her. He watched her taking out a little black case from the cupboard between the table and the niche containing the double bed in which she slept, placing it on the table and opening it; he realised it was a laptop computer with colour LCD monitor and satellite connection to the internet, very modern and quite expensive.

“Do you want to have a look, too?” Erin asked him. At his nod, she moved the laptop on the table, so that both could sit down, and they watched the CNN news. After it, Erin went looking at the site of the network that had shot the accident the night before, finding a paragraph and a short film, in which also her motorhome was to be seen, but neither her, nor Jarod. He tried not to show his relief, but he realised it was useless as Erin, showing once again her perspicacity, commented:

“You’re safe, this time.”

“Yeah”, he admitted, reluctantly, and after a pause he added, “You surely wonder about the reason...”

He stopped, and she nodded:

“Yes, definitely”, she confirmed, “but I won’t force you to tell me. As I said yesterday night, I’m sure you have your good reasons.”

Jarod was grateful for her discretion, because he hated the idea to deceive her, making up a story. Odd: in those last six years, he had never cared about weaving nets of lies around himself to make his presence in any place plausible. Obviously, because he always had acted with the best intentions, he didn’t regret anything of what he had done in the past. But now, suddenly, with Erin, it annoyed him.

“Thank you”, he said in a low voice, looking her straight in the eye, “I’m very grateful for your trust.”

She turned off the computer.

“We all have our secrets”, she asserted, with a serious, almost stern face, “As long as they don’t damage anyone, we can keep them. But it’s wrong to do so when they begin to hurt someone... including ourselves.”

Jarod wondered when his secret would begin to destroy him. Very soon, he answered himself, if it hadn’t already begun. His weariness, moral even before physical, could very easily be the first symptom...

Erin, who had not slept much the night before, went to bed early. Jarod did as much; he always slept very little, troubled by bad dreams, probably because of the experiments the Centre had made on him over the years. Tonight, very unusually, he fell asleep almost immediately and slept for an extraordinarily long time. He had the usual nightmares, but they were somehow dull, veiled, far away, and he was able to keep them under control. When he awakened, he realised astonished that six hours had passed since he had closed his eyes, and that he had rested incredibly well. Even if he didn’t see anything in the darkness, his gaze moved towards the niche were Erin was sleeping; he was hit by the conviction it was her presence that had this effect on him. As if the mere fact she was there had the power to drive away from his mind all the horror he had passed through in that hell-on-Earth, the Centre. He wondered uncertain about the reason: it couldn’t be only because she was a kung fu expert and owned a gun, therefore she was able to protect him. No, it had to be a different quality, something she had inside of her and wasn’t apparent to a superficial inquiry. At last, it dawned in his mind: Erin had an uncontaminated soul. Oh, she was not a saint, far not. But she possessed the rare skill to enlighten everything around her with an aura of purity, in which whoever was standing next to her could find shelter and feel safe. And whoever came her near with a corrupted soul, was irresistibly driven back.

Jarod realised that, as long as he would stay with Erin De Rossi, the Centre would have no power on him and couldn’t reach him.

 

Saturday, May 25th, 07.30 a.m.

 

The next morning, they got off their beds early and had a light breakfast, and later Jarod helped Erin to unload the motorcycle from the trolley. As they finished, he asked her all of a sudden:

“Do you know a good restaurant in town?”

“I know a few”, she answered, surprised, “What kind of a restaurant do you have in mind?”

“Something very chic. No, the most chic of all.”

“Oh, well… there’s _Rocheford’s_ down at the port. They have the best grilled seafood in all Frisco. Why, do you want to take there your girlfriend?” Erin inquired grinning, but hiding deep inside of her a stinging envy.

“No… but I would ask you if you’d do me the honour of coming out this evening for dinner. A way to thank you for the lift, for today’s trip and, what’s most important, for your company.”

His offer caught Erin by surprise, and for a long moment she couldn’t utter a single word. Realising she was holding her breath, she inhaled and was finally able to answer:

“I’d love to, Jarod. Thank you.”

Shaking off the odd embarrassment that had caught her, she looked at him critically:

“We have to find a helmet for you”, she said, “For no reason I’d drive about someone without.”

They asked to the camping place owner, learning he was a passionate biker; he offered very kindly to borrow Jarod a helmet. It was an open model, more suitable for a chopper than for a street motorcycle, and it was a little too large, but for the time being it would fit.

Erin arrived sporting a leather suit, red like her bike, with matching gloves, boots and helmet. Jarod stared at her in amazement: the night of the accident, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, she had looked very young; the day before, at the swimming pool, she had looked like a charming mermaid; and now she seemed almost masculine. Plainly, she had a multi-faceted and eclectic personality, in some way chameleon-like. The thought made him smile: _chameleon_ was one of the nicknames Miss Parker used to call him, along with _boy wonder_ and _labrat_. Of course she meant to insult him with those epithets, but Jarod didn’t pay attention any more since he had realised, a long time ago, that Miss Parker was his enemy only apparently: deep inside her exacerbated heart, she was and always would be the sweet childhood friend who had soothed the loneliness of a secluded boy who had been taken away from his family.

Jarod returned to the present hearing the rumble of the engine. Erin get into the saddle with the ease of the expert motorcyclist; slightly hesitant, because he had never been the passenger, he put on his leather jacket and climbed behind her, finding out that the position was quite comfortable.

“Put your arms around my waist when I speed up”, she instructed him, “and when I brake, place your hands on the tank, so you don’t weight on me. When I lift, follow my movement, don’t oppose it because you would compromise the behaviour of the bike. As for the rest, simply trust me: I think to be quite a good rider.”

During the half-an-hour-journey, Jarod proved to be a fine passenger, even if his hair stood on end when Erin passed a series of cars, which were already beginning to slow down to prepare for a bend, braking at what it seemed the last second; but after a while he understood that the brakes of a motorcycle, compared to the vehicle mass, are much more powerful and effective than the brakes of a car and therefore require a much shorter braking space. He saw she had told him the truth asserting she was a good rider; he relaxed and enjoyed the trip.

First thing, Erin took him to see the Golden Gate, the world-famous bridge on the San Francisco Bay, from the scenic perspective of the same name park.

Later, the young woman took him on a panoramic tour around the town centre, facing free and easy the chaotic traffic of the typical up-and-downs of the hills on which the town is built; Jarod could appreciate the agility and the practicality of the two-wheeled vehicle and decided that, if ever one day he could settle down somewhere, he would buy a bike.

They visited Chinatown, the picturesque Chinese quarter that Erin, because of her great interest for oriental culture, knew very well; for lunch, among other things, she got him to try some delicious chicken skewers with soya sauce.

Exiting from the restaurant, they crossed a wedding procession; at the head of it came a dragon, made of red and golden cloths, symbol of prosperity and fortune; then came the bride and bridegroom, wearing rich Chinese costumes; a number of players followed, with drums, pipes and other traditional instruments; the guests walked behind, laughing and clapping their hands at the sound of the music. The crowd along the street stopped to look, cheering and shouting good wishes to the couple. Jarod and Erin stopped, too, cheering the newlyweds along with the others. The procession passed slowly, and over that period of time Erin saddened, because the memory of her own wedding day came to her mind, unavoidable, which had been truly the most wonderful day of her life, with a promise of happiness that at the time she thought to be destined to last forever. Heavy-hearted, she wished that the beautiful, young bride with almond-shaped eyes would have more luck than she had.

“Why are you sad, child?”

At the unexpected sound of the female voice, sweet and unfamiliar, Erin turned in surprise to see who it was. She looked upon an old Chinese woman of indefinable age, small and fragile, wearing a grey-blue kimono and with a long braid of snow-white hair.

Looking in her deep black eyes, Erin didn’t wonder about how the elderly lady could possibly know she was sad: her instinct told her that this woman mastered the Chinese mystic arts. A sorceress, in a certain sense, but not in the way that Western people mean it, because Chinese magic is made mostly of deep wisdom and knowledge of the natural forces.

The answer rushed to her lips almost involuntarily:

“Because they are so happy, and I envy them, for I’m alone”, she explained in a low voice. The elderly lady narrowed her eyes; Erin felt as if she was looking in the depths of her soul, probing the past and the future.

“Why do you say so?” she heard her mutter, “You’re not alone any more, and you won’t be ever again.”

Erin blinked, confused; then, with a flashing intuition, she whipped around to look at Jarod, who hadn’t noticed anything and with a great smile was waving to greet the newlywed couple. She turned again, but the old lady was going away, vanishing into the crowd; Erin felt the urge to chase her, to ask her for an explanation, but her feet seemed as if rooted in the ground and she couldn’t move.

Jarod turned to Erin to make a comment, but his fellow traveller’s bewildered face froze the words on his lips.

“What’s up, Erin?” he asked her. She lifted suddenly her eyes to look at him, like waking up from a dream, and after a moment at a loss, she shook her head:

“I just had a curious exchange with an old wise Chinese woman”, she answered, “She told me something about myself that I’d never have dreamed of.”

She didn’t say what, and Jarod respected her reticence, sensing that she wasn’t ready to share it with him. Usually he was able to obtain very quickly someone’s trust, knowing instinctively how to put them at ease, but he perceived that Erin had had her trust betrayed by somebody that she would never expect and had been so very deeply hurt, that now she had trouble to grant it again.

In the late afternoon, they returned to the camping place, where Jarod helped Erin to load her bike back on the trolley: having to dress in a formal attire for their dinner at _Rocheford’s_ , they couldn’t surely use this vehicle to go back in town, so they had booked a cab.

Erin was glad she had been enough far-sighted to take with her a suitable dress; it was a black spaghetti-string dress, with a heart-shaped neckline showing off her décolleté, to which she added a jacket of black lace, hemmed with shiny silvery satin, and high-heeled sandals; besides, she carefully put on her best make-up and arranged her long brown hair in a coiffure that drew the eye on the elegant line of her neck and shoulders. At last, she used some drops of a perfume she had purchased several months ago, an intriguing vanilla fragrance, which the label declared to be an aphrodisiac.

Glancing at the mirror in the small bathroom of the motorhome, she had to admit by herself that she was trying to impress Jarod. Would she succeed…?

When Jarod caught sight of her, he felt breathless: once more, she had transformed, and was now playing a sensational model with the same ease she had played the little girl, the mermaid and the motorcyclist-woman.

 

Suddenly her scent reached his nostrils; he recognised the head note, vanilla, and then he caught also the heart, white musk... a very seductive mix that thrilled him.

With a shiver, Erin realised the effect she had obtained, and felt her mouth going dry. Anyway, Jarod was just as good, as she noticed when he came off the motorhome in his cream-white linen suit and the blue shirt with tie. Not for the first time, she thought he was a very attractive man, and not only from the sheer physical point-of-view: his kindness and his gaze, so often veiled with melancholy, made him even more charming.

The cab showed up sharp and took them to the elegant French restaurant, which had a terrace overlooking the port, where sailboats, catamarans and stunning yachts floated anchored on the docks.

“ _Mademoiselle_ De Rossi!” she was greeted by the maître, a tall and loose-limbed man, with distinguished manners, speaking French, “I am very pleased to meet you, after all this time. How are your parents?”

“ _Très bien, merci, Monsieur_ Dupont”, she answered in the same language, smiling, “My father retired three years ago and now he and my mother live in a ranch near Napa.”

“I am happy to hear that. When you called to book, today, I reserved to you and your escort our best table. Follow me, please.”

“I lived here in San Francisco for some time, with my family”, Erin explained to Jarod, while they were walked to their table, “We came often here for dinner.”

They took a seat on the table from which they could see the best panorama. Dinner was sophisticated and tasty, seafood coming with a delicious Californian white wine, and ended with a lemon and champagne cake. Jarod payed using a perfectly shielded credit card, impossible to detect, tapping into the generous funds he had taken from the Centre, now safe in a bank in Nassau, Bahamas. Not much people owned the _Titanium Card_ , but _Monsieur_ Dupont was used to a high-class clientele and wasn’t much impressed when he saw it handed over to him.

“The night is young”, Erin said, “Would you like to go to a night-club? I know about a very nice one.”

Jarod accepted promptly, glad to prolong the evening with this gorgeous woman whom destiny had unexpectedly put on his way.

They called another cab and went to the _Red Cushion_ , a very discreet place with elegant furniture and dim lights. Here, too, Erin was recognised and walked to the best table, exactly in front of the stage where a striking black woman was singing, with the warm and sensual voice typical of her people, accompanied by a small orchestra. They ordered champagne and enjoyed the show, sipping the icy drink from the crystal flutes.

About ten minutes later, another singer took over the stage, this time a tiny blonde with a stunning contralto voice; to Jarod’s amazement, the former singer came to their table.

“Erin, honey!” she cried, in a low voice as not to trouble the colleague’s exhibition, “It’s been way too long!”

“Hi, Yvonne, I see you’re always in fantastic shape!”

“I manage”, the woman said, modestly, “but you’re more beautiful than ever. And who’s your charming companion?”

Jarod, who had stood up in turn, addressed her a slight bow as Erin introduced them:

“Jarod, this is my friend Yvonne Vallier; Yvonne, Jarod O’Donnell.”

They shook hands, then sat down. Erin beckoned the waiter to bring another glass and they made a toast.

“How many years is it, since we met?” Yvonne asked, frowning, “Almost twenty, I believe.”

“Don’t remind me! Time goes by at supersonic speed…”

“We meet too seldom… How long is it, eight months?” at Erin’s nod, Yvonne went on, “I still remember our duets… do you still sing?”

“Always only for myself.”

“What a waste! Mister O’Donnell”, Yvonne said, turning to Jarod, “because I’m sure she didn’t tell you, I will: Erin was the best student of the singing-course we attended together; with her talent, I never got it why she didn’t make it a profession.”

Jarod looked at Erin in wonder, and the young woman shrugged:

“I was too shy. Every time I had to perform as a soloist, I sweated cold. No, at that time, it wasn’t a good idea, and I devoted myself to a completely different trade, like you know well.”

“I can’t believe you were shy”, Jarod grinned, “From the moment I met you, you looked the boldest person in the world.”

“I got over that phase when I realised I was just afraid people would negatively judge me, and that day I decided I didn’t care any more about the others’ opinion.”

“Do you mean that a microphone doesn’t scare you anymore?” Yvonne inquired, interested.

“No, in my gym they have often lectures and conferences and I’m in charge of all the introducing and leaving speeches.”

“Fine! So what about singing a song together, like in the old times?”

Her suggestion caught Erin by surprise.

“But it’s been twenty years!” she protested, “I don’t remember a single text…”

“No, no, something more modern… I have a large repertory: Aretha Franklin, Dionne Warwick, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Diana Ross, Céline Dion… “

“I don’t know…” Erin hesitated, looking around, uncertain. Jarod flashed her an encouraging smile:

“C’mon, I’m sure you’d be amazing, I heard what a voice you have.”

She curled her lips in a charming pout and yielded:

“Very well, then. Yvonne, what of Mariah Carey’s and Whitney Houston’s song from the soundtrack of _The Prince of Egypt_?”

“Wonderful! Which part do you do?”

“Whitney.”

“Fine, so I’ll do Mariah. I go and tell the director.”

In the following half-an-hour, the time the blond singer needed to finish her performance, Erin repented many times her decision. True, she didn’t have stage-panic any more, but between presenting speakers at a conference and singing in front of an unknown audience, there was a great difference. But now she was into it, and she was taught that when it was this way, she had to go through with it.

Yvonne came and called her, and then she presented her:

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce to you an old and very dear friend of mine; I studied singing with her and she was much better than me. Please welcome with a great applause Miss Erin De Rossi!”

Trying to control her nervousness, Erin entered the stage, greeted by a generous clapping, and took position behind the second microphone brought there for her. Her hands were icy and her heart pounded in her throat, but then she perceived Jarod smiling at her; seeing a friendly face among the audience calmed her down enough to allow her thanking everybody with no tremble in her voice.

Because she was not a professional, she had asked Yvonne to signal her when she had to begin. The orchestra played and her friend began with the first _stanza_ ; at her small signal, Erin aired the second one, without mistaking a single note of the difficult performance. The song went on in a _crescendo_ , engaging the two singers at first as soloists and then together; on the _finale,_ they unfurled their voices in a duet of incredible _pathos_ that gave shivers to Jarod and to all the audience, which finally exploded in an ovation worthy of a theatre.

Someone _encored_ them, at once followed by others, Jarod among them. Erin and Yvonne confabulated shortly, and then started again with Aretha Franklin’s signature song, _Chain of Fools_ : it was another triumph.

At that point, Yvonne hit the mark on her real purpose:

“Now it’s your turn, Erin”, she said simply, winking at her, and walked out on her, leaving her alone on stage. Erin stared at her, gaping.

“But how the hell should I do it?” she spelled out voicelessly; Yvonne pointed at the orchestra director.

Still disorientated, Erin turned to the handsome black man and stared at him, her eyes wide open.

“What do you wish to sing, ma’am?” he asked her, with a smile expressing his admiration. Erin thought she wanted to disappear into the ground and glared at Yvonne with fiery eyes, but she sensed the audience’s expectation like a tension on her skin and realised that, should she leave the stage now, she would cut a poor figure. Furthermore, her friend would cut one, too.

She thought quickly and chose:

“Céline Dion, _My Heart Will Go On_. But please, beckon me when I must start.”

The director nodded, and a few seconds later, she heard the first notes of the romantic song, soundtrack of a very popular movie a few years before.

It was a demanding piece, requiring a vast vocal extension and a high volume, but Erin didn’t make a single mistake, facing the _crescendo_ and bringing it to the highest point with such a powerful voice, it ruled the music instruments, and then ended speaking of her lost love in a very moving _pianissimo_. Again, the audience exploded in a deafening ovation, with whistles and appreciation cries.

Thrilled and pleased, Erin left the stage with a gracious bow and went back to her table, while Yvonne was taking again the stage.

“Luckily she goes”, the singer commented, winking at the audience, “if not, the owner could fire me and engage _her_ in my place.”

All laughed loudly, except Jarod who looked worried at Erin:

“Could he really do it?”

Erin grinned:

“Hey, _she_ the owner of the _Red Cushion_!”

Of course, he understood now the joke and laughed heartily.

Now it was the turn of a female dancing group of quite undressed but very good dancers, surely worth competing with the famous _Blue Belles_ of the _Lido_ in Paris, or the celebrated _soubrettes_ of the _Moulin Rouge_. Yvonne came again to their table, and was very disappointed hearing that Erin and Jarod would not stay much longer in San Francisco.

It was quite late when they took leave and returned to the camping place in a cab.

“Thank you for the fantastic night, Erin”, Jarod said, before they climbed into the motorhome, “All the men we met envied me.”

She chuckled, flattered:

“Thanks, but as for this, all the women surely envied _me_.”

“If you say so...” he replied in a perplexed tone, confirming her that she had been right thinking he didn’t completely realise the appeal he had on the other sex. Erin was glad about that: she couldn’t stand striking people knowing it and taking advantage of it.

 

Sunday, May 26th, 04.30 p.m.

 

“I thank you again”, Jarod said, addressing Erin, “I spent a very pleasant time, with you.”

“I was fine, too”, she answered, hiding the sadness she was feeling behind a bright smile, “I wish you good luck.”

“To you, too.”

Because there was nothing more to add, Erin turned and climbed on the driver’s seat. She was heavy-hearted, as if she was taking leave for evermore of a beloved person. Yet she had met Jarod less than sixty hours earlier... how could it be that they seemed to her like sixty days?

Starting the engine, it crossed her mind to ask him his phone number, but she rejected the idea. She was not the kind of woman making the first move, she never had been nor would ever be, in spite of the deep changes she had gone through during the last year and a half. And anyway, Jarod, too, could think about it, but because he evidently didn’t, it was plain that he was not interested.

With a last parting smile, Erin plugged in the first gear and started the motorhome, pulling in the state road.

Jarod watched her driving away with a feeling in his stomach, like a heavy boulder crushing him. Often, in the six years he had spent running from the Centre, he had taken leave of people who he had come to love, but he had never felt such a deep sadness. Erin’s presence had been like sunshine in his gloomy life, with her he had felt relieved, protected from the evil chasing him, implacably, tirelessly.

At a loss, he wondered how he could already feel Erin’s absence, whom he after all had met for such a short time, and regretted not having asked her phone number, or address.

Suddenly he smiled: his photographic memory had filed the motorhome’s licence plate, through which he could go back to Erin... But then, his smile went off: what purpose was there on finding her, if because of the Centre he could not stay with her all the time he would like to? Sure, he could avoid showing up again, but for how long could he keep the hounds away? Six months, one year?

No, as long as the Centre existed, he was condemned to an eternal run.

“Goodbye, sweet Erin”, he whispered, his eyes damp with tears.


	3. Chapter III: Crescendo Part 1

 

Chapter III: Crescendo Part 1

 

Friday, May 31st, 09.00 a.m.

 

Erin De Rossi arrived in the hall of her gym with her usual resolute behaviour. Jean Reynolds, her old friend, secretary, and for over one year now her partner in the gym, raised her gaze from the desk and welcomed her with a smile:

“Hi, Erin, how are you this morning?”

“Less good as usual”, Erin answered, pulling back a long strand of brown hair from her face, “Tonight I hadn’t slept much.”

Jean’s smile became mischievous:

“Oh? And what’s his name, do I know him?”

It was an old joke between them, and Erin made a vague gesture:

“I don’t remember, I think it was Tom... or Craig... or was it Larry?”

“If you follow the usual schedule, Mark was on yesterday”, Jean grinned. Laughing, Erin headed for her office, where her smile went off at once. Sometimes it was hard for her joking this way, because after the end of her marriage, she hadn’t been able to feel anything more than a fleeting interest for a man. Yet there were a good number of hunks in the gym! Moreover, she was a beautiful woman who looked, and felt, easily ten years younger than her real age, and she didn’t lack opportunities. But so far, none of those she had gone out could excite even a single hormone in her, so her sexual life in almost two years had reduced to a few kisses that had left her completely indifferent. The only one who had been able to evoke in her a real interest had been Jarod O’Donnell, a handsome as much as mysterious man, but their encounter had been too short and with no consequence. She would have talked about him to Jean, but in the days following her return, they had never had the chance to make a chat in peace.

She shook her head: it was time to get to work.

Two hours later she gave up: there was nothing to do, she was unable to focus. This morning she simply couldn’t stop thinking of Jarod. With a sigh, she put away the papers that she was meant to take care of and stood up: if she couldn’t work, she might just as well exercise a bit. She changed in her private bathroom, putting on a tight fitness suit in vivid colours, and looked in the mirror: she had never been vain, but in the last few months she had been on a bland diet, which had taken her to the shape she had been fifteen years earlier. She smirked at her reflection: twenty-two pounds [ten kilograms] less were noticeable, of course! Her thinned waist made her breasts look a measure larger, and her legs looked longer. Yes, she was very glad about her appearance... She recalled Jarod’s stare when she had showed up in her swimming-suit: what did he tell her, that she looked like a mermaid? No one had ever complimented her this way... Well, her father used to, but he didn’t count. And then, she had seen that same stare the day after, when she was wearing the black dress with the spaghetti-strings and the lace jacket. At the end of the evening, Jarod had told her that all the by-standing men had envied him. Again, Erin did not remember somebody ever telling her something like this.

With a sigh, she turned her thoughts off Jarod: she would never see him again, and as regrets are useless, as she had learned in the harshest way, she woke up from her daydream and headed for one of the gym rooms, where in the next couple of hours she devoted herself to aerobic and spinning exercises.

 

But deep inside her mind, the thought of Jarod was lingering, stubbornly.

 

Sunday, June 2nd, 05.45 p.m.

 

Jarod drove the blue Chevrolet Corvette, which he had purchased a few days before, northwards along the state road. He hadn’t resisted for a long time in San Francisco: it was a beautiful town, but he didn’t like the chaos of a metropolis. So, he had shoved all his belongings once more in his travel bag, hopped into the car and taken the road towards the Napa Valley. He had heard a lot about this place, famous for its vineyards producing renowned wines, and he thought it was peaceful enough for him. Not that he wished to take solace in a little village, where the coming of a stranger is always noticed, because being noticed was exactly the last thing he wanted; but he was looking for a mid-sized town where he could settle down for a while without catching somebody’s eye and renew his strength, psychologically even before physically, because his endless run from the Centre had worn him out.

The engine of the Corvette purred beneath the hood, giving him a pleasant feeling of power, well-controlled but ready to explode if the need called.

“Try and catch me”, he muttered under his breath with an evil smirk, addressing the hounds of the Centre in his imagination: with their sedans, they could not even slightly compete with the speed of the Corvette.

One hour later, he arrived in view of a town, which looks attracted him at once: it seemed tidy and peaceful, and extensive vineyards surrounded it. Along the way, advertising billboards of every measure and shape showed the name of various winemakers: Barnes, Johnson, Alonzo, Chiarini... English, Spanish, Italian names, in the typical mix due to the immigration of people from all over the world. Jarod cast them no more than a distract glance, driving the Corvette along the state road, heading for the town, which could count maybe about fifty-thousand inhabitants.

It was almost dark when he entered Santa Lorita, and he decided to spend the night in a motel. The day after, he thought, he’d make a tour and, if his first impression was confirmed, he’d stay there for some time.

All the time that the Centre would need to find his whereabouts again.

 

OOO

 

He caught sight of the building at the last moment and had to brake slightly hard. _Summerdale Motel_ , said the sign; an inquiring glance informed Jarod that it had to be a clean and well-kept place, so he parked the Corvette and entered the hall. The man behind the desk, about sixty years old and with as nice a look as this place, welcomed him with a kind nod. A plastic tag on his shirt reported his name: Mike.

“Good evening, sir, may I help you?”

 “I’d like a room for three days, maybe more”, Jarod answered, instinctively liking his interlocutor. He guessed immediately the reason: he reminded him of Sydney, his mentor at the Centre, who had raised and educated him and whom he loved like a father, knowing he loved him in return like a son. Not everybody at the Centre was evil people, he thought suddenly.

He filled in the form that Mike had handed him, writing his datas with a vaguely childish hand; as usual, he had to give false generalities, and kept the Irish name _O’Donnell_ he had given a few days before to Erin. In the week that had passed since their short meeting, he had thought often of her, and using again this name in some way made it easier that he was doomed to never see her again.

Jarod handed his credit card to Mike and watched him widening his eyes: granted, he hadn’t seen often, if he ever had, the _Titanium Card_. Only a restricted number of people could afford using it.

He carried the large travel bag and the metallic suitcase, which were all his luggage, in his room, stripped and took a shower. Then he donned dark pants and a white T-shirt; realising he was hungry, he decided to go out and have dinner somewhere.

Mike was no longer at the reception; instead of him there was a woman in her early thirties, blond and quite attractive; the nametag on her shirt proclaimed her _Ellen_. She heard him coming, so she looked up from the magazine she was leafing through; her blue eyes expressed appreciation for what they were looking at.

“Good evening”, he said politely.

“Good evening”, she returned in an emphatic way, “May I help you?”

From the woman’s facial expression, Jarod guessed she was meaning she was available for him. Having lived the ninty-five percent of his life within four walls, at the Centre, he couldn’t for sure been called an expert in this kind of approaches, but by now he knew enough of the other half of the sky to understand such things.

“I was looking for a place where having a nice dinner”, he answered in a purposely neutral tone, having no intention to encourage her. Ellen’s eyes didn’t lose their charming expression:

“Any preferences, such as Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Greek...?”

“Italian”, Jarod decided, thinking once more of Erin. Damn, he had to get her out of his mind, or the thought of her would haunt him, and God knew he had already enough thoughts haunting him…

From under the desk, Ellen grabbed a city map and, after a short glance, pointed out a place:

“Here you’ll find _La Fattoria_. I know the owner, Mario Ballardin: tell him that it’s Ellen Fontaine sending you.”

“Thank you, Ellen”, said Jarod politely, taking the map she was handing him, “See you soon.”

He walked out of the motel and got in the Corvette, pulling into the state road; shortly after, he parked near the restaurant Ellen had suggested him and walked in. Passing by a large glass door, he barely noticed that it was a gym, then a playbill caught his attention; he stopped to look better at it: beneath Chinese writings, illegible for him, a picture showed an old Chinese man in a pose he knew being kung fu _tang lang_ style. A caption praised the virtues of this martial art, at least five-thousand years old _._ Once again, he thought of Erin.

Many years before, at the Centre, he had had a Master that had taught him kung fu. He was allowed to because he had become too restless and could focus no longer on the difficult mental exercises they submitted him, and therefore, Sydney had suggested the practice of a martial art that would help him finding a psycho-physical balance, essential to make him succeed in his Pretender skills. It worked, and Jarod had gone on practicing kung fu for many years, interchanging it with fitness and swimming.

Something lighted up in his mind and he suddenly knew that he would stay in Santa Lorita.

 

Monday, June 3rd, 09.00 a.m.

 

Erin De Rossi entered into the hall of her gym and Jean, as usual, welcomed her with a smile.

“Hi, Erin, how are you?”

“Fine, thanks, you too?” at her friend’s nod, she went on, “The photos from Mexico will be ready before noon: what about going out to eat together, so I can show them to you? Lunch’s on me. And at last I’ll be able to tell you about that handsome and mysterious guy I met coming home…”

“Sure, gladly”, Jean accepted, nodding, “But only if lunch’s on _me_.”

Erin rolled her eyes, pretending exasperation:

“Again?! Well, that’s fine, I know I couldn’t change your mind anyway, you can be as stubborn as a mule, or even more!”

The two women laughed, recalling an event, occurred a few years before, which had costed Jean a very poor figure and taught her that stubbornness isn’t always a good thing.

A couple of hours later, Jean appeared on the door of her office; Erin noticed she was smiling with a vaguely idiotic expression on her face and her green eyes were shining in an unusual way.

“What’s up, Jeanie?” she asked her, intrigued. Her friend came in and closed the door behind her.

“Out here there’s the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen!” she cried, excited. Erin looked stealthily at her, puzzled: in the gym came and went dozens of fantastic guys, some of them could easily match the famous _California Dream Men_ , and it was highly unusual that Jean got excited for someone.

“And who should he be, Brad Pitt?” she joked therefore, “Invite him for dinner!”

Jean threw back a copper-coloured curl that had fallen on her brow.

“You can bet I’ll do it!” she snorted, “But meanwhile, going back to business, he’s here to ask information about the kung fu course. As you know, I’m not much competent about martial arts, so I thought to have him speaking with you.”

“Okay, let him in.”

Jean returned to the hall and one moment later, she led in the room a tall and good-looking man. His gaze met Erin’s, and the eyes of the two of them widened in amazement.

“Erin, this is Jarod O’Donnell”, Jean introduced him, but her friend didn’t even hear her, as she didn’t notice her walking out of the office. She stayed there, just looking blankly at the man in front of her, while he looked as bewildered as her.

“I’ll be darned!” Jarod finally breathed, “I can’t believe it…”

“I can’t believe it, either”, Erin whispered, “It’s unbelievable…”

Smarter than him, and used to deal with all sorts of people, in a few seconds she recovered from her shock and stood up, meeting him extending her hand and smiling broadly:

“ _This_ is a great surprise! Nice to meet you again, Jarod!”

“My pleasure”, Jarod managed to say in an almost normal voice, too shocked even to smile. He held her hand a moment longer than needed… like he had done the first time he had met her, that is; and like the previous time, Erin felt goose bumps going up her arm, a feeling that thrilled her much, so much that she drew back her hand a little abruptly. From Jarod’s gaze, she realised he was disappointed, so she sweetened her move with another smile, at the warmth of which Jarod felt like melting down.

They stared at each other for a few more moments, with a slightly dreamy expression, then Erin’s mind returned to her and she moved back to her chair. She invited Jarod to take a seat on one of the chairs in front of her desk and said:

“So, what venture brings you here in Santa Lorita?”

“ _Venture_ is exactly the right word”, Jarod answered, but as he was saying it, a voice in his head whispered insistently the word _destiny_ , “I wasn’t enthusiastic about stopping in a big town, I was looking for something more peaceful, so I took the car… and here I am.”

“You bought a car?”

“Yeah, a Corvette.”

“Hey, I adore Corvettes!” Erin smirked, reminding him of her passion for sports cars and motorcycles, “So you’ll stop in Santa Lorita?” she inquired, forcing herself to ignore the hope that had risen, unstoppable, in the depths of her heart.

“Yes, at least for some time”, Jarod answered, remaining vague by force of circumstances, “and in the meantime I’d like to refresh my kung fu.”

“You didn’t tell me you were a kung fu expert”, she remarked, rising her eyebrows with a questioning look. Jarod grinned apologetically:

“I’m not very used to talk about myself.”

Erin returned his smile, thinking that the self-restraint characterising him was a significant part of his charm, as well as the sadness often lingering in his eyes that made her crave to comfort him.

“I’ve noticed that”, she said, in a slightly mocking tone, “Which style do you practice, and what is your rank?”

“ _Tang lang_ , _shaolin_ and _tai chi chuan_ ”, he answered her, “And I’m black belt.”

Erin nodded:

“Our Master, Chung, teaches _tang lang_ and _tai chi_. He’ll be glad to welcome a student of such a high rank, in our school we are only five, now six with you.”

They were quiet for a moment, as none knew what to say; Jarod broke the silence:

“When can I start?”

“Oh!” Erin jumped, as if somebody had thrown a bucketful of icy water at her, “Tonight, if you like to: at 8 o’clock there’s the _tang lang_ class for the black belts.”

“Okay, I’ll be there”, Jarod said, standing up, “See you tonight.”

He extended his hand and she shook it, careful her agitation didn’t show, and then watched him going out, thinking that Jean was perfectly right: he really was the most handsome man who had ever come into her gym.

Her friend found her deep in thought.

“Earth to Erin!” she called, playfully, “You’d better come down again on the planet!”

Erin woke up from her daydream; her reaction didn’t escape Jean’s attentive eyes, and the younger woman connected the feeling she had while she was introducing the nice guy to her friend:

“Hey, don’t tell me that you knew him before!”

“That’s it, precisely, Jeanie”, she confirmed, “Do you remember I hinted to at a guy I met, while coming back from my trip? Well, that’s him!”

“What?” Jean cried astonished, widening her eyes, “But didn’t he stop in San Francisco?”

“Yeah, but he told me that he doesn’t like big towns, so he jumped on his car and, driving about, he ended up here… And in my gym! Isn’t that crazy?”

“Indeed!” Jean confirmed, emphatically, “So will he attend the kung fu course? He didn’t fill up the form…”

“My fault, I forgot to tell him to call for you for it”, Erin admitted. Her friend giggled:

“If he affects you like this, I guess he drove your hormones crazy!”

Erin blushed like a schoolgirl, but forced herself to laugh, hiding her embarrassment:

“Maybe, Jean, maybe…”

 

OOO

 

Jarod was fairly confused; he went back to his car, knowing that he had to look for a sporting-goods store and get the clothes he needed for his new activity, but he was absent-minded and drove a while aimlessly.

For days, he couldn’t help but thinking of Erin De Rossi, persuaded he would never see her again and regretting it bitterly. And then, all of a sudden, chance had driven him to meet her again.

Chance?

Or destiny?

The voice he had heard before, in Erin’s office, whispered unceasingly that it wasn’t a chance at all, that he and Erin _had_ to meet again, _had_ to stay together. In which way, he didn’t know yet, but he was sure he would find out soon.

For sure, he could say that, from the moment he had seen her, he had barely mastered the urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss her soundly.

Putting aside those baffling thoughts, Jarod stopped at a gas station, filled up and asked for a sporting-goods store; he received directions for a mall just outside town, where he found the typical black kung fu kimono – short tunic with korean collar, closed by a number of frogs, and large pants with an elastic at the ankles – and the tai chi outfit, that differed from the kung fu one for the upper side, having a white shirt and an open black jacket, and no belt. He bought also suitable gym shoes and a sport bag.

Being almost lunchtime, he stopped at the _Burger King_ in the mall, where he wolfed down a hamburger with chips, drinking a large glass of Sprite; finally, satisfied, he returned to the motel and waited impatiently for the evening.

 

OOO

 

It was almost noon and Jean had not yet seen Erin, so she decided to go and knock at her door, then opened it and peered in from the threshold. Her friend lifted a questioning look upon her.

“I’d like to remind you our date for lunch”, Jean said.

“Is it time already?” Erin was amazed, “Good heavens, time passes quickly…”

She stood up, grabbed her purse and moved swiftly on. Jean looked at her askew as she passed her by, but did not comment.

They went to the photographer, where Erin collected her pictures from Mexico, then Jean took her friend to the _Fujiyama_ , a Japanese restaurant were both loved going because of its excellent treats, especially _sushi_ and _sashimi_.

Erin was a very good amateur photographer, and indeed she had captured a number of greatly evocative landscapes and picturesque happenings, such as a _fiesta_ in a village on the Cortèz Sea and a colourful small outdoor market.

“I couldn’t resist and bought a white eyelet cocktail dress”, Erin told her friend, “with an ankle-long skirt, a neckline leaving bare shoulders, a tight bodice with strings and a red sash around the waist, a romantic and at the same time sexy style.”

“I adore the way you dress since you lost weight”, Jean asserted, “At last, you begin to highlight your shape.”

“With twenty-two pounds overweight, there wasn’t much to highlight!” Erin laughed, with the auto-irony she always possessed; it was true, as she was finally satisfied with her body, she had begun to dare miniskirts, slits and deep necklines she hadn’t dared even as a girl, “Thanks, anyway.”

Jean sipped at her cold green tea.

“So, don’t you want to tell me about Jarod?” she asked her.

“Actually, I don’t know much about him”, Erin answered, “He told me he’s an on-line software consultant, but I know neither where he comes from, nor if he has a family, if he’s married or engaged… Even if it’s not possible that such a handsome guy hasn’t a woman, somewhere”, she concluded, sighing.

Jean echoed her:

“You’re right, the most interesting ones are nearly all engaged already.”

The _sushi_ arrived, and for a few minutes both busied themselves enjoying the taste of the little rice morsels, steam-boiled and stuffed with raw fish, dipping them in a very spicy green solid sauce called _wasabi_.

“Tell me about your first meeting”, Jean pressed her on. Erin gave her a detailed report of the happenings on that Thursday night: the accident, the aid to the injured people, the police, and at last she inviting Jarod to continue the journey with her.

“I don’t know what got into me, Jean”, she admitted, still confused, “I know very well the risks a woman takes, on the road, alone with a stranger… But there was something in his eyes… honesty, decency, kindness, vulnerability…  Well, he inspired me trust.”

Jean recalled the impression _she_ had had about Jarod that morning and couldn’t help but agree with her friend.

“He doesn’t inspire only trust”, she said in a low voice and in an impudent tone, “but also sinful thoughts. If it wouldn’t be plain that you like Jarod so much, I’d throw myself to him”, she added cheekily, “So, what are you waiting for to do so yourself?”

Erin made a face.

“I don’t know if I really like him…” she tried weakly, but Jean broke her off with a sharp gesture:

“Spare me, Erin! You talk about him like he’s the archangel Gabriel. And if at last a man has been able to raise your interest, I’m not going to ruin things!”

Erin shut up: when Jean revealed her redhead temper, she had no other choice. But of course she knew, too, that her friend was perfectly right: she fancied Jarod, indeed. She wondered if she would ever have the guts to let him know it.

“I’d like being able to make the first move”, she said, “Oh, Jean, why must I be so… old-fashioned? Why must I always wait that _he_ makes a move?” she shook her head, “But that’s not all, you know…”

Jean didn’t insist: she knew this was a sensitive issue, which could sadden or fly her friend into a rage, according to her mood of the moment.

They finished lunch chatting about other things, then they went back to the gym. Perhaps because she had spoken openly with Jean, Erin could focus now enough to work all afternoon.

 

OOO

 

On the DSA screen, a boy around thirteen stood still in front of his instructor. On the lower left corner, a caption stated: _Jarod, 05.16.1972, For Centre Use Only_.

“Kung fu movements originate from the animal kingdom”, the instructor was saying, a Chinese man of about forty years, “The bear’s pawing, the tiger’s move, the snake’s dart, the religious mantis’ dance, the dragon’s power. Besides, each of us belongs to one of the five elements in which we divide the universe: air, water, fire, metal, wood. The belonging to one of these elements determines the way each of us fights: whirling like air, overpowering like water, flickering like fire, steady like metal, essential like wood. From what I’ve seen so far, Jarod, you belong of the air element...”

The adult Jarod who was watching the DSA smiled to himself: Master Fong had taught him much more than the simple performance of movements, because, thanks to him, Jarod had learned about the Tao, the great oriental philosophy based on the balance of every single thing in the universe.

“In every principle there is a tiny part of its opposite”, said Fong, “In the deepest evil there is a little good, and in the brightest good, a little evil; in the deepest darkness there is a ray of light, and in the purest light, a ray of darkness. Everything in the universe exists because also his opposite exists: love and hate, compassion and cruelty, generosity and selfishness. That’s why our symbol is composed of two parts of opposite colours that interpenetrate, and in each one there is a fragment of the other one...”

Jarod thought of Miss Parker, his childhood friend, the one who gave him his first kiss, the innocent kiss of two desperately lonely children. Now she had grown cold and merciless, but he knew that deep inside of her the sweet child still existed, that inside of her _black_ look there was a _white_ fragment. In the same way, he knew that deep inside of him, who considered himself _white_ , there was a _black_ fragment, from which he drew when he punished the wicked people who had committed their evil tricks on an innocent he had chosen to defend. Yes, Fong was right asserting that nothing is completely good, and nothing is completely evil.

Slowly, Jarod turned off the DSA and closed the metallic suitcase containing it; he had examined all the disks regarding Fong’s lessons, wanting to recall every single detail that could be useful to introduce himself as a black belt in a believable way. Many years had passed since he practiced, except a few occasions when he had to defend himself from an aggressor, and as a matter of fact, he never achieved officially that rank, but he knew he was up to it. He _had_ to, if he wanted to have the opportunity to be with Erin…

 

OOO

 

It was 7.50 p.m. when Erin set foot in the large, wooden floored room, where the martial art classes took place: besides kung fu, there was karate, judo and kendo, taking turns in different days and hours, divided into higher and lower belts.

Almost all students of the advanced class were already there; waiting Master Chung’s arrival, the students had already begun with the warm-up exercises and Erin joined in. Five minutes later, Jarod O’Donnell entered and Erin, who perhaps not completely casually was looking toward the door, felt her heart jump. _Calm down!_ she ordered herself, annoyed, _Don’t drool like a teen-ager in hormonal rage!_

Jarod glanced around in the room and his eyes met Erin’s. Thinking she was pretty with the soft braid, low on her nape, at least as much as with loose hair, he flashed her a smile, which she returned warmly. Jarod felt his knees turning into jelly.

Erin called for her classmates’ attention:

“Guys, I’d like to introduce a new student”, she pointed at him, smiling, “Jarod O’Donnell. Jarod, meet John Night-Eagle Dorner…”

John was a Native American, not very tall and with a skinny look that very soon Jarod would discover as misleading. Then there was Bill MacKinley, whom all called Mac, very big but astoundingly nimble, and two young black men, Pat and Nick Shoults. Each of them welcomed Jarod with the traditional kung fu salute: little bow with straight back, gaze lifted to the interlocutor, right hand in a fist held in the left at chin-height.

Master Chung, on time as usual, came into the room. Everybody lined up in front of him and bowed solemnly, returned with the same solemnity.

Erin, as both the gym owner and the highest ranked student, stepped forward:

“Master, let me introduce to you a new student: Jarod O’Donnell.”

The small Chinese man turned a piercing but gentle gaze on the newcomer and smiled at him:

“Welcome, Jarod.”

Jarod bowed again, feeling a sudden liking for this small man, whose skin was as dark and worn as an old parchment:

“Thank you, Master. I’m honoured to meet you.”

To evaluate his style and level, in the following half-an-hour Chung trusted Erin with the other students and examined Jarod, who produced several _tang lang_ forms, which are imaginary fights like karate’s _kata_ , earning the Master’s approval.

“I suppose you’d like to see now something of the style of my school”, Chung suggested, and at Jarod’s nod he called Pat Shoults and Mac, who upon his request performed a promised fight, which is a fight with predetermined moves, of great dexterity and very spectacular, using the former a sword and the latter a halberd, of course both with no edge and with covered points. Then John Night-Eagle showed a difficult form with the meteor-hammer, a steel weight tied to a long silky ribbon, manoeuvring it with the elegance of a jazz-gym athlete. Lastly, Chung asked Erin and Nick Shoults to show Jarod a very unusual promised fight: sword against fans. Of course, the silky fans had a secret: steel ribs, which originally would be sharp like razors, an unexpected and perfect weapon for a fake court lady.

Watching carefully the way she moved, Jarod attributed to Erin the water element: adaptable and flexible, it slips through any gap and goes its way, slow or swift according to the circumstances, but always unstoppable.

In the final half-an-hour lesson of ninety minutes, Chung began to teach Jarod an advanced form that the newcomer didn’t know, while the others, under Erin’s supervision, went on with their normal training.

As the lesson came to an end, the students saluted the Master with the ritual bow and Chung dismissed them. All went to change in the males’ dressing room, except Erin who used her private room. When she came to the hall, Jean inquired immediately:

“So, how was Jarod?”

“You mean, beyond the fact that he’s really the most handsome guy who’s ever been in here?” Erin mocked her. Jean put on a fake offended expression, and her friend chuckled:

“Except this, I must admit he did truly fine. Happy now?”

Jean watched her stealthily: there was _something_ in her friend she hadn’t seen for a long, long time. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could do so, the subject of their conversation showed up.

“Well, I hope you like me”, he said smiling, talking to Erin. Jean looked askance at him, too, with different eyes than in the morning, when she had been too taken by his fine appearance and hadn’t noticed anything else. She found in him, too, that _something_ she had just seen in Erin, and a light went on in her smart mind.

Erin felt her heart thumping hard at the words _I hope you like me_ , and for a minute, she felt lost: did he figure it all out? Then she thought she was an idiot: what was going on with her, jumping like this for a sentence, besides spoken by someone who was almost a perfect stranger to her? But the point was exactly this: Jarod O’Donnell felt not at all a stranger to her, and the feeling was very weird, almost alarming. Anyway, she told firmly to herself, he was speaking surely about his athletic skills.

“I’d say so”, she declared, a little evasive but sweetening the sentence with a smile, “But perhaps the most demanding test will be tomorrow with the _tai chi_ class, if you’d like to try also this style.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world”, Jarod affirmed, “It’s the style I prefer, for its gentle appearance that hides an absolutely deadly reality.”

“That’s right...”

Jean put suddenly on a totally neutral expression, not wanting to risk bursting into a loud laughter: it was a long time she hadn’t seen love at first sight, and these two looked really like teen-agers at their first crush!

“You’re very good”, Jarod continued, “The form with the fans was outstanding.”

Erin blushed like a schoolgirl and felt the impulse to run as fast as her legs could carry her.

“Thanks, but Master Chung is the one who deserves all the credit. Um, I must go now. Jean, please, can you close up the gym, tonight? Jarod, see you tomorrow night at eight o’clock”, Erin took her leave, “Good night.”

With a parting nod to both Jean and Jarod, she whipped around and literally escaped, resorting to all her self-control for not bolting.

Jarod stood there as if frozen, watching her going away with a totally lost look on his attractive face. Erin had reacted as if she was running in front of a horde of demons, and he wondered mortified what he could possibly had done to her. He decided to ask Jean:

“Do you think she doesn’t like me?”

The girl put back in place an unruly copper curl, which as usual had fallen on her brow.

“Oh, talking about that, I think she likes you more than she knows herself”, she answered in a sharp tone, “but I warn you: she suffered in a horrible way, and if you want to mess around with her, you’ll have to face me, kung fu expert or not.”

Jarod was flabbergasted. He hadn’t guessed that the attraction he felt for Erin would be so evident, and surely he didn’t expect such a reaction from Jean, whom he didn’t know at all; but he realised that it originated from a sincere friendship, so he decided to play it straight:

“I have no intention to mess around with her. I don’t know the reason, but I feel that Erin is very important to me”, he explained, “She’s very lucky to have a friend like you”, he added.

“ _I_ am lucky to have a friend like her”, Jean replied, still mistrustful, “I warned you.”

“And I got it”, he assured her, solemnly.

Jean did believe him.

 

Tuesday, June 4th, 08.00 p.m.

 

Punctual, all the _tai chi chuan_ class students stood in a line in front of Master Chung. Only four people were there, because the two Shoults brothers didn’t have yet passed the examination for the black belt rank in this style.

Once more, Chung wanted to examine Jarod in order to verify the level of his knowledge and again he was favourably impressed. Because Jarod lacked one form, he trusted him to Erin to teach him, while he devoted himself to the other two students, John and Mac.

Jarod was enthusiastic of Erin’s skills as a teacher: she was very careful and exhaustive in her explanations, and it was plain that she liked very much what she was doing. From her part, Erin found in Jarod a very talented student, with a great ease in learning, so that she had rarely to repeat a movement more than once before he could reproduce it perfectly. At the end of the ninety minutes, she had been able to teach him almost the half of the form, which normally required at least eight complete lessons.

“You have an incredible talent”, she told him sincerely, “I’ve never found someone who learns so quickly and well.”

“Thank you”, Jarod replied shortly – he couldn’t obviously tell her about his Pretender skills, “But credit is on the teacher.”

She smiled, flattered, but because of her natural humbleness, she dismissed it with a coy gesture. But Jarod wasn’t deceived: Erin had exceptional skills, and he was sure her I.Q. had to be very high. To say nothing of her sex appeal… Even in the loose _tai chi_ outfit hiding her beautiful silhouette, she was attractive and feminine like few women are. He had to admit the truth: he liked Erin, madly.


	4. Chapter IV: Crescendo Part 2

 

Chapter IV: Crescendo Part 2

 

Thursday, June 13th, 08.10 p.m.

 

Miss Parker entered into Broots’ office without knocking, as it was her habit.

“Any leads on Jarod?” she barked. The skinny, bald man sitting in front of his PC raised his dark eyes and looked at her, then quickly lowered them again, frightened.

“None so far”, he answered, shaking his head, “He seems as if vanished in the middle of nothing.”

Miss Parker smoothed her shiny, shoulder-long brown hair and frowned.

“It’s extremely unusual”, she commented, annoyed, “This time he didn’t leave any hint about where he was going, and he didn’t even call me for one of those stupid little mind-games of his.”

She was referring to the riddles that, over the years, Jarod had often submitted to her, riddles that had taken her, against her own will, to think about herself and what she had become; but she was also referring to the hints he often had given to her shed some light on the mystery about what for a long time everyone had believed to be Catherine Parker’s – her mother – suicide, who instead faked her death to give birth to Ethan, her and Jarod’s father’s son; the Centre had her pregnant without either her or Major Russel’s permission, and faking her death she had hoped she could keep the child safe.

“Do you know if he called Sydney?” Miss Parker asked. Broots shrugged:

“I have no clues, you better ask him directly.”

Miss Parker’s eyes, blue and cold like a glacier, pierced him through:

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do”, she said coldly.

 

Two minutes later, she was stepping into Sydney’s office, again without knocking. The elderly psychiatrist was sitting at his desk, writing a memo to the Tower, the Centre’s authority.

“Any news about Jarod?” Miss Parker questioned him, with a slightly more respectful tone than she normally used with Broots. Sydney looked at her; for a moment, in the young, attractive woman in front of him, wearing a close-fitting cream-coloured business suit with a very short skirt, he saw the sweet child she had once been, a child he had loved like his own, exactly the way he had loved Jarod. Damn, he thought, he still loved them both.

“Nothing yet”, he answered. Miss Parker crossed her arms, pressing her beautiful lips in a vexed grimace.

“That makes 24 days”, she pointed out, in a nervous tone, “It’s never happened before”, she glared at the man in front of her, “How was he, the last time you heard him? Was he in some way different than usual?”

Sydney frowned, trying to remember.

“He sounded tired”, he answered slowly, “I mean, from a psychological point-of-view.”

“Ha, does this that the pressure has finally begun to wear him out?” she asked hopefully, “Is a breakdown coming, which will have him making some imprudent move, so we can catch him at last?”

Sydney shook his grey-haired head:

“Jarod? No. He’ll never push himself over the top. Probably he realised he was tired and decided to disappear for a short time. He’ll show up when he’s well again, and he’ll drive us mad like usual, or maybe more.”

“Very good, Dr Freud”, Miss Parker mocked him, ironically, “It’s exactly what you hope, isn’t it?”

Without awaiting his answer, she stormed out of the room, her high heels ticking loud on the marble floor. Sydney wondered sadly how much more time she would insist to be angry at the universe.

 

Friday, June 14th, 06.20 p.m.

 

In the last two weeks, Jarod had attended the gym on a regular basis, proving himself an excellent martial artist. The Friday before, as if often happened, Master Chung had invited his students over for a tea, and they had stayed till late talking about philosophy, but also laughing and joking. Erin was as usual the only woman, because there wasn’t any other equal to her black belt rank in the school, and Jarod had admired her great easiness: she treated her classmates, and was therefore treated in return, like equals. That way, she had been able to establish a comradely relationship with them going beyond the gender difference, a relationship Jarod had often seen in the Military, in particular among Marines, where men and women, doing a hard and dangerous job, overcome completely sexual prejudice.

Jarod wasn’t able at all to figure out what Erin felt for him. He was sure she liked him, as a man besides as a person, but she didn’t encourage him, treating him in the same way she did with everyone else. Not fathoming something was remarkably unusual for him, because his Pretender skills normally allowed him to know exactly what people felt about him. At last, he identified the reason: the attraction he felt to her was dimming his abilities. He had been mistaken, sometimes in the past, believing in sincerity of people who were instead deceiving him, but he had never been completely at a loss before as he was with Erin, and this made him uneasy.

As for her, Erin was unable to deal with the situation: she liked Jarod madly, but every time she thought about talking to him, she froze. The matter was slowly beginning to strain her, and she knew that sooner or later she had to face it and find a solution. Damn, sometimes she wished she was an easy woman: she would just take and bed him! But Erin knew this wasn’t the right solution: she didn’t want sex with him. Or better, not only. Truth was, she wanted _him_ : his heart, his mind, his soul, besides his body… But she wasn’t sure she could give him as much in return, and this was precisely what dissuaded her to make a move, because she thought it was neither right nor correct to demand so much if she wasn’t willing to give as much.

At the end of the second week, spent among reveries and harsh auto-scolding, Erin was ambling through the hall when Jean called her:

“So, will you ask him out for dinner or not?”

Erin needn’t to inquire who her friend was speaking of: they had talked about Jarod far too many times, in those twelve days since he had arrived.

“What do you mean…?!” she snorted, “You know I’m not the one that makes the first move on a man.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to change this”, Jean replied, “I see the way you look at him, and I see, too, the way _he_ looks at _you_.”

Erin stared into Jean’s green eyes:

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked, using unintentionally a rough tone. Her friend didn’t blink, as she was used to see her loose her temper – a trait she had obviously inherited from her mother, an authentic Irish redhead.

“Listen, since that stupid ex-husband of yours dumped you, you never looked at a man this way”, she said, frowning and talking very seriously, “At the beginning, understandably you were interested in nobody, but it’s been almost two years now and it’s about time that you let yourself go with someone. Jarod is the right one, and you, too, know it: I see it in your face every time you stare at him.”

Erin looked away with a suddenly frightened expression.

“You’re right”, she admitted in a low voice, speaking maybe more to herself than to Jean, “I like Jarod very much, but I’m terrified... Terrified to put my all on stake again. I know how I am: if I’ll ever fall in love again, it’ll be as before with my ex-husband, fully, unreservedly... But I really don’t know if I’d be able to stand another letdown...”

A lump in her throat forced her to stop, and Jean sympathised with her friend. Erin was a person of deep feelings, so her sorrow had been as great as the love she had felt for her ex-husband. Her fright was understandable, but something told Jean that in this case – in Jarod’s case – it was unjustified. But how could she make up Erin’s mind?

“Only you can know if and when you’ll ready to risk it again”, Jean said quietly, “but if you let Jarod go, I’m sure you’ll regret it forever.”

Erin’s eyes were damp with tears she was barely able to hold back; not wanting Jean seeing her weeping, she rushed to her office. Jean held back the impulse to go after her, sensing that her friend wanted to stay alone.

 

OOO

 

Unnoticed, Jarod had heard the entire conversation from behind the half-closed dressing-room door, where he was changing after having one hour swimming. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he had heard they were talking about him, he couldn’t help but listen. The unexpected turn the conversation had taken had then frozen him on the spot.

And so, Erin shared his feelings... but she was too afraid to show them. He, too, had been once in love and had been betrayed, so he could understand her, but his had been a very short story, while Erin had been even married. Hearing the pain in her voice had touched him more than anything he had ever felt. He had only known her for a few days, yet he felt as if it was months, or even years...

There could be but one explanation: she was the woman of his life, he was sure of it, with the certainty that, so many times in the past, had saved the life of those who trusted him, and his own life, too.

Making an effort to put up a casual face, Jarod opened the door and crossed the hall, stopping in front of the reception desk. Jean smiled warmly at him: since that first day, she had realised she could trust him.

“I’d like to see Erin”, Jarod said straight. Jean frowned:

“I’m not sure she can see you right now”, she answered, but of course she couldn’t decide for her friend, “Wait a moment, I’ll ask her”, she pressed the intercom button, “Erin, Jarod would like to talk to you.”

A few seconds went by before Erin answered:

“Only a minute, I’m on the phone.”

Jean knew it was only an excuse, because she could see on her switchboard that all the lines were free. On the other hand, if Erin was weeping, she had to have the time to wipe off her tears.

“Let him in”, Jean heard then her voice, slightly distorted by the electronic device. Jean gave Jarod a nod and he went to Erin’s office door, knocked and entered.

Erin was sitting behind her desk, but when Jarod came in, she stood up to meet him.

“Can I do something for you?” she asked, struggling to produce a smile.

“Yes”, he answered, pretending he wasn’t noticing her nervousness, “I’d be glad if you come and have a drink with me”, he blurted, smirking to hide his own anxiety.

Erin’s smile relaxed visibly:

“I’d love to.”

She realised what she had just said only after having actually voiced it, which was something very unusual for her, because she used to think at what she was about to say. After a moment of bewilderment, which Jarod read clearly on her face, she thought that fate had decided for her: _no matter what happens_. But anyway, what might possibly happen, going out with a nice guy for a drink?

Jean was very satisfied to see them leaving together and exchanged an eloquent glance with Erin, which Jarod carefully pretended he wasn’t noticing.

There was a nice bar at the corner, not far away, where the gym habitués often went for a drink, Erin among them. When she entered, with Jarod in her wake, many patrons greeted her; someone looked amazed, because usually Erin didn’t came with a guy, but with a group of people, yet the young woman didn’t take notice.

They sat at a secluded table and the waitress came to take their orders.

“Orange juice, please”, Erin asked.

“For me, too”, Jarod said, and at her questioning glance he explained, “I don’t drink alcohol except during meals, and for sure never after training.”

“It’s very bad for the organism, indeed”, Erin agreed, “But a good glass of wine during a meal is a panacea, says my grandfather.”

“Is he a wine expert?”

 “He comes from Venetia, an Italian region which produces very good wines”, she explained, “More precisely, he’s from Verona, Romeo and Juliet’s town. He was a winemaker, and once he arrived in California, he founded a small winery, the _Chiarini Vineyards_ – my grandmother’s girl name. They specialized in cabernet and chardonnay, two vines he succeeded to grow here, but for several years, they produce also a delicious golden verduzzo and a worthy pinot noir. My brother Sean inherited his passion for winemaking and for five years now, it’s him running the family business, while my father never liked it, nor me, as for this”, she concluded smiling.

“It’s important doing what you feel more suitable for you”, Jarod observed, as the waitress placed two glasses in front of them, “If you don’t, you risk wasting an important part of your life.”

The way he said it made Erin realise he was talking about himself. She took her glass and sipped.

“And you? Do you do what you feel more suitable for you?” she enquired. Jarod nodded:

“Yes, now I do. For years, I did what other people wanted me to, but finally I rebelled... and now I’m here.”

“I understand what you mean. I had to rebel, too, against my family, because they didn’t want me to take a job they thought not suitable. You know how parents are: they wanted me to be a lawyer, or a doctor, or devoting myself to the family business, but I didn’t listen to them, so after graduation, I entered a school for gym instructors. Luckily, after some time, as they recognised my determination, my family eventually accept it, and at last, the day I graduated from this school, they were more proud of me than I was myself!” she smiled at the memory, “If I let them, they’d have a party organised even more sumptuous than for my college graduation...” she shook her head, and a lock fell on her face, “I never loved high society too much, so I was able to change their mind and they took me simply to dinner... at _Rocheford’s_ , of course!” she concluded, chuckling.

Jarod laughed with her, glad she wanted to share with him this fond memory.

They chatted pleasantly for a while; at a certain point, Jarod felt instinctively that it was the right moment in time and asked her:

“What about going out for dinner together?”

His invitation caught Erin by surprise, making her hesitate.

“I should close the gym at nine...” she began, then she bit her lower lip: what a fool was she being?! She had been waiting for two weeks, hoping, _begging_ for a move from Jarod, and when he did it, she threw it away? She must have gone crazy! Moreover, she couldn’t misunderstand the disappointment on Jarod’s face.

“I’ll ask Jean to do it for me; she has the keys, anyway.”

Smiling at him, Erin grabbed the cell phone from her purse and called Jean, asking her to close the gym. On the other end of the line, she heard her friend giggle:

“You go out for dinner together?”

Erin didn’t mind telling her the truth:

“You’re right”, she confirmed.

“Then Monday I want a complete report!” Jean concluded, laughing. Erin closed her cellphone with an amused smile: Jean was really incorrigible!

“You must advice me”, Jarod said, standing up, “I don’t know this town very well yet.”

“Do you like Greek cuisine?” she asked. Jarod smiled:

“Never tried, but I’d love to!”

“So let’s go to _La Plaka_ ”, Erin decided, “It’s suitable for our informal outfit, they cook really fine food and it’s close, too.”

Dinner began with the typical Greek aperitif, a liquor called _ouzo_ , which tasted like almonds; then they ordered _dolmades_ , which are rice morsels wrapped in vine leaves, absolutely delicious, and drank _Santorini_ , a light white wine; as a main course, they chose _souvlaki_ , tasty meat skewers, with a side plate of colourful salad made of lettuce, olives, pepperoni, onions and _feta_ , a salted goat-cheese, and drinking red _Goumenissa_. To finish, a puff-pastry dessert called _baklava_ with _Samos_ , a sweet white wine.

Through dinner, they spoke freely about the most different topics; as they already had discovered during their short journey to San Francisco, they shared interests in a number of areas. Besides martial arts, they both loved music, especially pop-rock, and dancing, above all Caribbean dances such as salsa, merengue and bachata; they were fond of fantasy and S.F. – both adored Tolkien and Marion Zimmer Bradley, and confirmed to be _Star_ _Trek_ and _Star Wars_ fans; and both liked powerful cars and motorcycles. Erin remembered chuckling that at the fast-driving class she attended in Monza, she had been the best, far over her classmates – all males. She had to thank her father for this, as he had been a car-racer in his youth and had taught her all the tricks and techniques he knew. Besides, if Erin’s main hobby was writing, Jarod’s was drawing; he was able to model and to sculpture, too, but drawing was what he liked most.

While they were talking, Jarod found more and more confirmation of his first impression: Erin was a volcano of interests and activities, you never could get bored with her.

Jarod insisted to pay for dinner, and exiting from the restaurant he commented:

“I think this was the best dinner in my whole life!”

“The cook is a Greek woman, as is the owner, and both insist to use only Greek products”, Erin explained, “That’s why they are a little expensive, but the taste is inimitable.”

They returned to the gym, now closed and darkened except for the hall.

“Can I take you home?” Jarod asked. Erin was about to say that she had her own car right there, but then she thought this was an opportunity to stay with him a little while longer. She could come and take her car the following day.

“Gladly”, she answered therefore.

They arrived far too early in front of Erin’s home, a detached house with a very well kept garden in front of it, located just outside of town. Jarod walked her to the door, on a shadowed veranda decorated with a wooden wind-bell; in the evening breeze, it was producing a low and vibrant tune, very pleasant. Seeing that Jarod was looking at it, Erin explained:

“I bought it in Thailand six months ago. The old man who sold it to me said it drives away the evil spirits, and at the same time it gives serenity to the house that hosts it.”

“And do you believe it?” he enquired, smiling.

“Well, I’m not a fanatic of the supernatural, but I’m sure that there _has_ to be something, in the universe, that goes beyond our perception”, she asserted. Jarod nodded:

“I think the same way.”

Another thing about which they agreed, thought Erin, pleased. She returned his smile, then turned around and opened the door.

“Good night”, she said, reluctantly, “Thank you for keeping me company, I had a great time.”

As Jarod didn’t answer, she raised her eyes to him, discovering he was staring at her; the intensity of his gaze took her breath away and, without realising it, she returned his gaze with the same intensity.

Jarod took a step forward and leaned over; he avoided on purpose hugging her, afraid that she could feel scared, and simply brushed his lips on hers in what he meant to be an innocent good-night-kiss.

But he had underestimated the power of the attraction seething between them.

As their mouths touched, a spark shot through both like a high voltage electric shock. With a gasp, they clung at each other; Erin parted her lips and Jarod slipped his tongue through them, unable to contain himself, searching her tongue in a hungry kiss. Far from being frightened, the young woman returned the kiss passionately. Jarod’s mouth was soft, warm and tasted good, and she dropped in his arms.

Her reaction turned on Jarod even more. With a groan of wild desire, he pressed her against his body, and she could clearly feel all of his greed against her belly. Without thinking, she moved her pelvis, and Jarod gasped; he arched his back to slip one hand between their bodies and placed it on her breast. Leaving her mouth, he kissed her neck; Erin threw back her head and he placed his lips on her pulsing throat, tickling its delicate skin with the tip of his tongue, wandering down to the soft joining of her breasts peering from her partially open shirt. Erin could barely breathe, and her hardened nipples were aching, protesting against the restraint of her clothes; her depths were all knotted up and between her legs she was feeling unbearably hot. She shivered, thinking that, in all her life, she had never felt before such a searing desire.

Jarod felt her trembling in his arms and thought he had frightened her. He stopped, then forced himself to withdraw.

“Forgive me”, he whispered in a hoarse voice, “It didn’t mean to scare you... but I want you so much...”

For a moment, Erin was confused about his defection, but then she realised that, acting like this, Jarod was making clear she was important to him, very important, or he wouldn’t care to reassure her.

“I’m not...” she began, but she had to stop to clear her throat, “I’m not scared at all”, she touched her forehead, stunned it wasn’t burning like she was expecting it to, “But...” she hesitated, unsure of what she really wanted to say, “I’m not used to inviting a man in my bed just a few days after meeting him...” she looked him straight in the eye, with the frankness that was one of the qualities Jarod appreciated most in her, “but with you I’m about to do so.”

Jarod swallowed, sensing what she was trying to tell him: she wasn’t an easy woman, but with him, she felt _different_.

“I don’t want you to do something that tomorrow morning you could regret”, he said quietly, “Maybe we are rushing things...” he sighed, “Better I go away.”

“No!” she burst out, instinctively. She drew a breath to calm down the turmoil she was feeling in her heart and went on, “It’s true, maybe we are rushing things... but I don’t want you to go away now. Would you... would you stay for the night?” she blushed, “I mean, to _sleep._ I have oane spare bedroom always ready for guests...”

Jarod realised she was telling him she trusted him completely, an unjustified trust, because she barely knew him. _He_ knew that her trust was well placed: rather than betraying her, he would prefer to die. It was simply extraordinary that she was feeling the same way.

“Okay”, he accepted therefore, simply. Erin smiled at him shyly, then turned and opened the door.

The house reflected well her personality: roomy, with a plain but valuable furniture in bright wood, carpets with warm colours, shiny pictures on the walls. They crossed a drawing room with a large L-shaped couch and packed bookshelves; a huge television set, fully equipped with video-tape recorder and a DVD player, and a HI-FI stereo with a rich collection of LPs and CDs completed the interior decoration. In a corner stood a small fireplace, in front of which, during the winter nights, it was surely very nice to sit down and stare at the fire.

Erin led him to the large garden, of which a gardener took care once a week.

In the yellow light of the lamps, Jarod saw shadowy trees, yews, alders, poplars and other ones, and flower-beds blooming with roses, lilacs, rhododendrons; in one corner stood a large swimming-pool of irregular shape, surrounded by stones and low bushes of heather and honeysuckle that gave it an almost natural look. A white wooden gazebo, built on one side of the swimming pool, hosted three rocking-couches in a horseshoe arrangement around a square stony table. A _leprechaun_ , the typical Irish gnome with green jacket, red pants, high cylinder-hat and big white beard under his large nose, peeped from behind a butcher’s broom bush, while a number of fairies danced a minuet not far away in the silvery light of the moon, which was almost at its first quarter.

“What a wonderful place!” Jarod cried, delighted. Erin smiled:

“An Irish corner in the middle of California”, she explained, “I drove the gardeners mad because I wanted exactly _those_ trees and _those_ flowers. Would you like something to drink?” she asked him then, “Water, fruit juice... or some wine?”

“No wine”, Jarod decided, “I’m not sure I’d keep my self-control, if I drink more alcohol”, he explained in a soft tone. Slightly embarrassed, but also flattered, Erin fetched some water and papaya-and-passionfruit juice, and only after having served it she realised that these two fruits were thought to be both an aphrodisiac. She hoped that Jarod didn’t notice it, or, if he did, he didn’t take it in the wrong way.

They sat down on one of the rocking-couches with their drinks. For be more comfortable, Erin took off her shoes and invited Jarod to do as much; so barefoot, lazily sunken into the couch, they chatting about everything and nothing.

Then, little by little, with no apparent reason, sadness descended like a huge stone on her, weighting down on her heart and crushing it; Erin became silent.

Jarod noticed immediately that her eyes were blank. He perceived her melancholy like an abyss widening inside of her and his throat tightened in anguish. He put his glass down on the stony table, shifted over to her and, without a word, wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She didn’t move.

“Erin...” he called softly, “What’s up, Erin?”

 

Erin felt the firm grasp of his arm around her shoulders, the solidity of his body pressing against her hip, the warmth in his voice, and she felt like being lifted out from the precipice she had unexpectedly fallen into. She turned to look at him, but was unable to speak. The pain in her gaze troubled Jarod deeply: even if he knew the reason of it, he hadn’t suspected its true vastness.

“Talk to me, Erin, will you?” he asked her quietly, “It was you, the one who said that, when a secret begins to hurt, it’s not to be hidden any longer...”

Almost two years had passed since her marriage had arrived to an end. In all that time, Erin had sometimes spoken about it to a friend, or to her mother, but never to the bottom. There was something she had never told to anyone; now she realised she would finally tell it to Jarod. But she had first to tell him the whole story.

“Once upon a time there was a romantic girl who dreamt about Prince Handsome”, she began, in a dull tone, looking away, “and one day she met him. He was tall, charming, amusing, interesting, intelligent, and handsome. She fell madly in love with him. She gave herself to him completely, mind, soul, body and heart. After one year of engagement, they married with a wonderful ceremony. For her, it was the happiest day of her life. For the following ten years, the two of them were the perfect couple: same thoughts, same emotions, same ideals; they were faithful, loyal, always ready to support and comfort one another. Friends said that talking to one or the other was all the same, they really were the embodiment of the motto _two bodies and only one soul_...”

Erin paused for a long moment, searching for the most suitable words to express all her bitterness. She went on:

“Then, one horrible day, without the smallest warning, Prince Handsome decided that he had enough and told the girl he would leave. She thought there must be another woman, but there wasn’t any. Simply, he could stand no more the responsibilities of marriage and wanted to be free, going back to be a boy, with no worries, no boundaries, no obligations. For six long months, she refused to surrender and tried any and every way to put back together the broken pieces of their marriage, but he didn’t cooperate at all. Simply, he didn’t want to be with her any longer. Because she loved him truly, finally she returned him his freedom: she had put a ring on his finger, and not a chain around his neck. She sold their house, divided in two all their common estates, and then, devastated, broken, annihilated, she ran from the ruins of her life. She trusted her business to a loyal friend, purchased a motorhome, a trolley, loaded her motorbike on it and for two months she took a roundabout, trying to escape her pain, not realising that she couldn’t do it, because the pain was there, inside of her, and couldn’t be left behind, and it would go on and on tormenting her. When she finally realised it, she cried all her tears in a vent that teared her chest and ripped her soul, to the point she thought she would die with a broken heart; and then, unexpectedly, she found inside of her a sparkle of strength that saved her from the chasm. She came to terms with her pain and vowed that she would weep never again...”

She interrupted hearing a choked sob. She turned to look at her unexpected confidant: Jarod was very pale, one hand on his mouth, his eyes glistening with tears. His deep care left her wordless.

“You suffered in a horrible way”, Jarod whispered in a trembling voice. His Pretender skills had made him go through the terrible sorrow that Erin’s words had evoked as if it was his own, and now he felt his heart bleeding for her.

“Yes”, Erin confirmed, talking again with some difficulty, “but luckily it’s gone. Time, in such cases, is a great doctor.”

“But I see there’s still much sorrow in you”, Jarod objected, looking into her eyes. Erin hesitated a bit, then nodded:

“True”, she confirmed, “but it’s not the same sorrow as before. That one was due mostly to the fact that I was still in love with my ex, or so I thought. At last, his actions killed my love for him. No...” she stopped, uncertain: there it was, eventually the moment had come to confess what she had never confessed to living soul; she drew a deep breath and went on, and tears were in her voice, “Now my sorrow is due to the fear I won’t be able to love ever again. I’m... afraid that my heart... is dead...”

Her voice trailed off. She had finally managed to say it. The tears, which she had held back for such a long time, broke off the walls she had stubbornly built around them and began to stream down her face.

“Yet I feel I’ve... still so much love to give...” she sobbed, “I just want someone to give it to... with no reservations... with any fear to be hurt again... Someone who would love me as much in return... Am I a stupid romantic…? Maybe I ask too much... and maybe I’m not even able anymore to love that way... But I wish so dearly... to feel again butterflies in my stomach... Oh, God, how much do I wish it...”

Jarod wrapped his arms around her and held her tenderly; he felt an almost fierce longing to protect her against all sorrows of the world. He rocked her like a child. Erin was very strong, she just proved it facing and looking in the eye her pain one more time, and she didn’t really need any protection, but he knew that everybody needs a support, now and then, and that no one is eternally unwavering like a rock. He was moved to realise that Erin trusted him so much to show him her vulnerability, and vowed by himself that, from his part, she would never have any reason to fear to be hurt, ever.

“One day you’ll realise your fear has gone”, he whispered, “In this case, too, time is the best of doctors.”

She went on weeping with distressed sobs that troubled him deeply; he felt helpless, and all his knowledge about psychology all of a sudden seemed inadequate and banal to him. Therefore, he just held her tight.

In his arms, Erin wept for a long time, soaking his shirt with a river of tears. Then, little by little, she calmed down, and eventually, exhausted, she fell asleep, searching for solace and relief from her sorrow.

When Jarod realised it, he softly kissed her hair, then he lifted her gently in his arms and carried her inside; he found her bedroom and laid her down. He slipped off her shoes, then wrapped her in the light quilt. He was about to go out when Erin re-emerged a few seconds from her sleep and whispered:

“Don’t leave me alone, Jarod...”

Her imploring tone struck him. It was a request for help, and he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, let her down.

He took off his shoes and slipped under the duvet, next to her; he grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently.

“I’m here”, he said in a low voice, “I won’t leave you alone.”

_Never_ , he added by himself, not really understanding why.

Erin uttered a small sigh, then went back to sleep. A few moments later, Jarod fell asleep in turn.


	5. Chapter V: Andante Amoroso Part 1

 

Chapter V: Andante Amoroso Part 1

 

Satuday, June 15th, 07.20 a.m.

 

The sun seeping through the window, which curtain he had forgotten to close the night before, awakened Jarod. It was just after dawn, and he saw the bright sky above the Irish garden.

He turned his head to look at Erin; during the night, the young woman had turned toward him and placed her head on his shoulder, while their hands were still interlaced, resting between their bodies. A long dark strand of hair had fallen on her face; there was no sign anymore of the bitter tears she had shed the night before.

Gently, Jarod pulled back the lock from her face. Erin opened her eyes, coming suddenly out of her sleep without a flinch, and looked at him; her expression bore no surprise, because she had perceived his presence all night long, solid and reassuring, even as she was sleeping.

“Good morning”, she whispered, faintly smiling at him, in an almost apologizing tone.

“Good morning”, Jarod said, returning her smile, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thanks to you”, she answered, “I’m sorry that I dropped my issues on you”, she added then, feeling ashamed.

Jarod used one hand to cup her cheek:

“Never mind. Friends are there for this, aren’t they? And anyway, it’s me the one who has to thank you: I can’t tell you how much your trust means to me.”

Erin covered his hand with hers, turned her face and kissed his fingers in a grateful gesture completely free of sexual meanings: at this very moment, they weren’t a man and a woman, but just two human beings sharing a very rare and precious spiritual union.

Then Erin smiled, with a smile that reached her eyes and made them shine like stars, and caressed his cheek; eventually, she sat up, flinging her legs over the edge of the bed. The moment of intense emotion had passed, but would always remain in their hearts and souls, making them special to each other for all their life, whatever might happen.

“I go and do a bit of _tai chi_ ”, Erin announced, getting up and looking for her shoes. Jarod got up, too, and picked up his shoes to put them on.

“Can I come with you?” he asked with an expecting expression. She flashed him one of those smiles of hers, as bright as the sun, which thrilled him so much, and nodded.

They went over the lessons of the last two weeks, during which Jarod had finished one form and begun another. Their soft, almost dreamy movements seemed to have nothing to do with martial arts, but in one second, they could become a lethal weapon, as Jarod knew well, for the slowness with which every move is performed demands a great psychophysical control, which takes to perfection: those same movements, performed on speed, become irresistible.

After about forty-five minutes, they stopped, and Jarod realised he felt full of energy. Indeed _tai chi_ means _supreme energy_ , and in China it is practiced early in the mornings before going at work, in parks and squares, people performing together, in more or less large groups, those harmonious movements.

“I’m starving”, Erin confessed.

“Don’t tell me!” he agreed, “Full breakfast?”

“Yeah, but Italian style”, she said, and at his puzzled glance she explained, “Bread, butter and jam, and we’ll drink _cappuccino_.”

The last word was in Italian, but Jarod knew it: it meant a hot smooth milk with _espresso_ coffee.

“That’s fine”, he said, smirking at her, “but can I take a shower, before?”

“Sure! The guest bathroom is the door at the bottom of the corridor. You’ll find even an electric shaver: I keep it for my father, who always forgets his at home when he comes to visit me.”

Erin took a shower, too, and then donned her clothes. She chose an ivory lace set of underwear, because she had discovered that putting on nice – not necessarily sexy – underclothing made her feel different; not that, once wearing it, she thought of it continously, but something inside of her changed: she felt more attractive, bolder, and therefore she ended up facing the world and people in a somewhat easier way. When she had realised it, a few months ago, she had thrown away all her old cotton underwear and purchased several new sets, in lace, tulle, silk, not looking anymore for practicality only, but for aesthetics, too. The result had been a subtle but plain shift in her attitude towards life. Odd that sometimes you need so little to feel better, thought Erin, putting on a sleeveless water-green shirt, hugging the lovely shape of her upper body, and a long soft orange-brown skirt; then she slid her feet into comfortable sandals and headed for the kitchen.

She was about putting some bread in the oven when Jarod appeared on the doorway.

“I smell a delicious coffee!” he cried. She turned to look at him and couldn’t take her eyes off him anymore: his hair was still damp, his face perfectly shaved; he was barefoot, and looked terribly sexy.

Their eyes locked and, all of a sudden, both forgot breakfast. Jarod reached out, placed one hand gently on Erin’s shoulder and pulled her slowly to him.

“May I give you the good-morning-kiss?” he asked, in a low and vibrant tone. Erin lifted her arms and placed them around his neck, raising her head in a silent encouragement.

Jarod leant over, brushing her lips in a light kiss; then he straightened his back, ready to pull away. But he discovered he couldn’t move, awaiting for something else to happen.

Erin felt the same way. She also knew that it was her turn, now. But to do _what_?

For a long time now she had found out that, rationalising things too much, one can end up destroying great opportunities. Therefore, she ignored her brain and used her heart.

Slowly, she cupped his cheeks and placed her mouth on his. Jarod sneaked his arms around her waist, avoiding holding her too tight, because he wanted her to know that she was free to decide to stay or to withdraw, at her wish.

Erin stayed.

They kissed once, twice, thrice. Every time lasted a little bit longer than the one before. Their hearts were pounding in unison with great thumps, shaking them inside, deep down to the most hidden corners of their souls.

Then, Jarod parted his lips and, very gently, brushed hers with the tip of his tongue, longing for a deeper kiss, but giving her again the choice. Erin threw her arms around his neck and parted her lips, accepting his kiss. Jarod shoved his tongue in her mouth, slowly, almost shyly; the night before, he had been lost in a wild desire, but now, while with the tip of his tongue he was brushing hers, he felt shaken as if it was the first kiss in his life.

Erin had a great roar in her ears; her knees felt like jelly and were about to give in. She kissed Jarod desperately, clutching at him as if about to drown. Jarod returned the kiss in the same desperate way, stunned, unable to think coherently anymore, aware only of the woman he was holding in his arms, of her body pressed against his, of her mouth, so soft, warm, yielding.

It lasted very long, surely the longest kiss that both had ever given and taken in their whole life. Finally, their lips parted, but they stayed there holding tight. Both felt their heads swirling because of the intensity of their feelings.

They looked in each other’s eyes, and their gazes were dim with longing.

They uttered a gasp and kissed again, with a burning need that left them breathless. Unable to keep still, Jarod let his hands wander on her body; passion exploded between them, sending their minds into oblivion and darkening the light of reason. With a groan of desire, Erin crushed her body against Jarod’s, moving her hips in a seductive way. Jarod stroked her back, down to the curve of her buttocks, and held her even tighter; he left her mouth to kiss her throat and neck, and she gasped:

“Make love with me, Jarod...!”

Her imploring tone couldn’t be misunderstood, so Jarod hesitated no longer: he lifted her in his arms as if she were a feather and carried her to her bedroom. His legs trembled with eagerness; he stumbled in the sunlit room and layed her down on her still unmade bed. They clung one another and began to kiss again.

Then Jarod left her lips, but only to place a trail of kisses along her cheek and the side of her neck, under her ear. Erin’s faint moan told him that he had touched a sensitive spot, so he lingered there, tickling it gently with the tip of his tongue.

Erin was lost in a turmoil of blissful sensations. She felt very hot and kicked off her sandals. She didn’t think any longer, she just wanted it to last forever, she wanted Jarod to go on, never stopping kissing and caressing her. Clothes were an unbearable hindrance, both hers and his; she wanted to touch his skin, so she lifted his shirt and slipped her hands under it, brushing his back in a slow and sensual caress. She heard him sigh and felt him shiver.

Jarod was burning with desire, not just a physical desire he could satisfy by simply having sex, but something transcending flesh to transfuse into soul: he wanted Erin... _her_ , not only her body.

He pulled a little back and placed his fingers on the first button of her shirt. He undid it; then he undid the second one, the third, with growing urgency. Erin helped him taking off her shirt, then it was her turn to unbutton and take off his. They embraced again, and the violent heat their bodies were giving off amazed Jarod: it was as if they had a fever.

Erin couldn’t believe the intensity of her own need. She had never considered herself a very _hot_ woman, but now she was yearning for Jarod. She wanted him inside of her, in her body, as much as he already was inside her soul. She thought vaguely that she was about to became the lover of a man she barely knew and of whom she knew almost nothing, and for a moment she wondered if she had lost her mind... But Jarod had touched her soul in the same way he was now touching her body: gently but firmly, asking for nothing, but offering everything.

She barred the door to logic and opened another to her feelings, yielding to them.

Jarod fumbled shortly with the zip of her skirt, then he slipped it along her legs until it fell to the floor; he had not yet finished and she was already pulling on the belt of his pants, and then they landed on the ground with the other clothes.

They were now in their underwear only. Jarod found that Erin was wearing a lace set only slightly sexy, but that was exactly why it was so very enthralling; he appreciated it shortly before pulling aside the strings of her bra and lowering them to uncover the soft mounds it contained. He cupped one breast, closing forefinger and thumb upon its stiffened nipple. He heard Erin utter a soft cry, which she repeated louder as he lowered his head and seized the other nipple with his lips.

Erin clutched his head, sinking her fingers in his short brown hair, almost fearing he could leave her. She felt her centre on fire, quivering with longing. She pressed hard her thighs together, trying to control her craving, but at the same time, she wanted him to touch and caress her most sensitive spot.

Jarod perceived her impatience and felt flattered and glad; no woman had ever excited him so much, and he didn’t realise that she was as much excited. Barely keeping at bay his own impatience, he unfastened her bra and tossed it on the floor; gently nibbling her breasts, Jarod slid his hands along the curve of her hips, hooked his thumbs to the sides of her panties and began to lower them.

Erin writhed to help him and, at last, she was naked, exposed to his gaze. Not feeling the slightest embarrassment, but feeling instead bold as never before, she bent one knee and parted her legs to let him see all of her.

Eyeing the rosy slit among the dark curls at the junction of her thighs, Jarod held abruptly his breath; his expression became hungry and he reached out to brush in a sensual caress the velvety skin on the inner side of her legs. She opened them wider and, as she felt his fingers touching the very core of her womanliness, she trembled uncontrollably. A rattling gasp of astonished pleasure escaped her lips as Jarod’s fingers explored her female treasure, tempting her nether lips, fondling her clit, stirring up a storm of delightful sensations inside of her and making her quiver.

Then Jarod lowered his head between her parted legs and, realizing the erotic fantasies he had indulged into in the last few days, he began licking at her greedily. Feeling his tongue following the warm slit between her thighs, she uttered a long moan and held her breath as it touched her clit. Then she moaned again, louder, feeling it sliding inside of her, stimulating her merciless. Perceiving pleasure rising in her depths at a terrifying speed, Erin gasped and withdrew: she didn’t want to come like this, she wanted him to take her, to make her his woman, completely.

Jarod could barely hold back any longer; feeling her withdrawing from the assault of his tongue, he realised that Erin, too, couldn’t stand it anymore. He was so hard that the need to plunge in her spread and inviting body was almost painful. Therefore, he leaned over her, freed himself from his brief boxers and immediately lowered his body on hers. The tip of his manhood touched her soft petals, which parted, warm, wet, yielding. He was about to thrust himself inside of her, making them one, when all of a sudden he felt her stiffening spasmodically under him. Alarmed, he looked at her; her scared gaze was a stab in his heart.

What was Erin so afraid of? She had been married, so she wasn’t a virgin for sure, and was aware of a man’s passion... Then, suddenly, he understood: after the end of her marriage, most likely she hadn’t been with any other man. Probably she was again narrow like a maiden, and now she was facing the obvious fright that he could hurt her, entering her too roughly. He thought he had been a stupid egoist for not having guessed it earlier, treating her more gently, preparing her for a longer time. But she was holding him tight, and it was plain that she didn’t wish him going back to more foreplay.

He kissed her tenderly, trying to reassure her. He moved slowly his pelvis, brushing her centre with his, making no move to penetrate her, just teasing her. Little by little, she relaxed and slumped in his arms. Pulling back his head to look at her, Jarod saw in her eyes an immense trust and an unmistakable invitation; he realised that she was ready and so, very slowly, he entered inside of her.

Erin was so damp with desire that she felt him sliding into her with no difficulty; feeling his testicles touching her labia, she realised that he was completely inside and hadn’t hurt her at all. Joy overwhelmed her and tears of gratitude filled her eyes.

Jarod’s lips were very close to hers and she felt there his warm breath. She lifted her face and kissed him deeply, passionately.

He began to move inside of her, at first cautiously, then, as he felt her body getting familiar to his, at an increasingly broader and quicker pace. Erin felt him gliding up and down inside of her; she began moving her hips at his rhythm, increasing the pleasure she was giving and receiving, while ecstatic sighs were escaping her throat.

Erin was so narrow and supple that Jarod was powerfully stimulated; he felt his orgasm coming swiftly and tried to hold it back, slowing down his movements, thinking it was too early. He hadn’t considered that, if for Erin’s dimensions he was strongly stimulated, she was, too: he realised it only when she uttered a vivid protesting groan. Hence, he resumed his rhythm and, after a few thrusts, he felt her arching under him. He saw her throwing back her head, while short breaths escaped her lips; her climax shook violently her depths, wringing a cry of pleasure from her. Jarod echoed it as he exploded inside of her.

For long moments suspended out of time, they stayed still, lost in an ecstasy both of flesh and soul and therefore absolute, sublime. Then, their bodies relaxed, satisfied at least for the moment. Jarod propped on his elbows to avoid weighting on her, but Erin held him tight, glad to feel him above her.

Jarod dove his face in her fragrant hair and kissed her earlobe, biting it gently. He felt utterly blissful, and indescribably lucky for having met this wonderful woman, so sweet, strong, tender, passionate...

Suddelny, with no warning, he realised what the sensation was that he had begun to feel in his stomach since almost the very first moment they had met.

With no possible doubt, it was butterflies.

The words rushed to his lips spontaneously, but before he could speak them out, Erin turned her face and sought his mouth with hers. They kissed tenderly, for a long time, and Jarod tried to make her understand his feelings that way. When their lips parted, however, he couldn’t repeat the words aloud, overwhelmed by a sudden shyness: what if she didn’t feel the same? The fact that she had made love with him didn’t necessarily mean that she was in love... that she felt the butterflies in her stomach like he did. Perhaps her loneliness, or the gratitude because he had listened to her venting her issues, understanding and comforting her the night before, had brought her to accept him in her bed and in her body, and love had nothing to do with it...

For this reason, he chose to be silent, at least for the moment. He pulled back, turning on his back, but still holding her; he had her resting her head on his chest, one arm around her shoulders, caressing her gently.

Erin sighed lovingly, wrapped one arm around his waist and closed her eyes. She had never felt so content in all her life, so in peace with everything and everyone, so... complete. They hadn’t spoken a single word since they had kissed the first time, but there hadn’t been any need for it, because they had understood each other perfectly without uttering one syllable, as if the room had been echoing with words. Never in her whole life had she felt such a deep understanding like with Jarod.

She sighed again.

“I hope I didn’t disappoint you too much... I’m not very good.”

The statement surprised Jarod: not very good? She had made love like a goddess! Okay, he wasn’t exactly an expert, but she had been everything _but_ awkward...

“No, you are _very_ good”, he contradicted her, sincerly. Erin raised her head to look at him, not hiding her perplexity, but seeing that he was convinced of what he had just declared, she lowered her eyes with slight embarrassment, then returned to rest her head on his chest. In this position, she could hear the thumping of his heart, still a little uneven.

“Do you really mean it?” she asked in a small voice, “I... had never known another man, besides my ex husband...”

Jarod felt a lump in his throat; moved, he held her tighter.

“Thank you”, he said in an undertone. Erin blinked, amazed.

“ _Thank you_ for what?” she asked, confused. Jarod kissed her hair.

“For picking _me_ for your second _first time_ ”, he explained. Erin felt tears in her eyes: how many men thank a woman for such a reason? She held him as tight as she could, making him feel her emotion, and Jarod returned her hug. He didn’t believe much in God, but this very moment he thanked Him from the bottom of his heart because He had made him meet this woman. He felt stunned like with Nia, the first woman he had slept with, less than one year after his escape from the Centre; but at the same time, he felt it was a different kind of feeling, more mature and significant. Not the crazy windmill of sensations like the teen-ager he had never been, never had been allowed to be, but the concreteness of an adult emotion, different, too, from what he had felt for Zoe, the gorgeous young woman with a cancer who, about one-and-a-half year before, he had persuaded to accept treatment and was therefore healed. Now he understood why, in spite of his convictions, their relationship hadn’t worked: his feelings for her were not even by far comparable to what he was feeling now for Erin.

A grumble coming from Erin’s stomach interrupted his thoughts. The young woman chuckled:

“My stomach never hesitates to let me know when it wants to be filled up!”

Jarod burst into laughter and brushed her arm:

“Mine is maybe more discreet, but it’s as demanding as yours!”

 

Laughing, Erin stood up and, gesturing him to stay in bed, headed for the kitchen. Shortly later, she returned with a large tray loaded with their breakfast.

“Coffee’s still warm”, she announced, placing the tray on the nightstand. They merrily jumped on the food, laughing and feeding one another, and exchanging spontaneous caresses. When even the last crumb had disappeared, Jarod wrapped again his arms around Erin and led her to lay down next to him.

“I’d like to stay here forever”, he said in a longing tone. Something in his voice gave Erin a bad foreboding, but she didn’t have the nerve to ask him anything. She sensed, in a confused way but for sure, that in the past of this wonderful man laid a terrible secret haunting him; anyway, with the discretion characterising her, she didn’t wish to ask him anything: when he would feel ready, she was sure he would tell her everything of his own free will.

Silently, she stooped and kissed him. Jarod realised she had somehow guessed his distress, at least partially, and was offering him comfort; grateful, he grasped her like someone shipwrecked grasps a lifeline.

Erin caressed his chest with a sensual and though sweet touch. He sighed in pleasure and Erin, encouraged, slipped her hands down his torso, his abdomen, lower and lower, until she brushed the tower of his manliness. Hearing him gasping, she hid a smirk and slipped away from his arms to slide downwards. Before he could fully realise what she was going to do, she had closed her mouth around his already stiff shaft.

An incredulous, rattling breath escaped Jarod’s throat as she brought him toward the high point; he tried to stop her, wanting to give her as much pleasure, but oh!, he had never experienced such an powerful delight, and when she refused to interrupt what she was doing to him, he yielded, having no strength to fight. In a few moments, he reached the top and, with a strange sense of unreality coming from the potent sensation he was feeling – not only on the physical side – he burst screaming into Erin’s warm and wet mouth. She smiled, exulting, and rose to look at him. Jarod had his eyes closed, but feeling her gaze, he opened them.

“My God...” he whispered, stunned, “I’ve never...” he stopped, unable to go on. Erin realised he wasn’t referring to the act itself – surely other women had made to him what she just had – but to the emotions he was feeling. She crouched in his arms, happy and touched.

“Did you like it, cow-boy?” she asked, trying to put on the manner of an experienced woman, but blushing all over her face, like a little girl. Jarod felt moved and stroked her back.

“Like never before in my life”, he answered softly, sincerely. He felt Erin shiver under his hands, and decided to return the pleasure she had just given to him. He made her lay on her back and kissed her lips; as she parted them, he lingered to caress the edges of her mouth with his tongue, then deepened the kiss, fondling her tongue for a moment in a sensual and provoking game. In the meantime, his hands wandered all over Erin’s body, and she vibrated, answering his touch like a well-tuned instrument. He left her mouth, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck and chest before fondling her nipples, first one, then the other, with his lips. At the same time, he slipped one hand between her thighs, and she parted them with an expecting sigh; using his fingers, he tempted the warm folds of her womanliness, smoothing them gently like flowerpetals. Finally, he placed his mouth on them and began to caress her intimately with his tongue. Erin shuddered violently; as she felt Jarod’s tongue penetrate her, hot like ember, pleasure took her breath away. She was so aroused, she needed only a few minutes before orgasm shook her core, wringing a long, heart-breaking moan from her throat; Jarod savoured her pleasure with a feeling of deep joy, going on caressing her until her spasms ceased. Then, he pulled back, kissed the silky skin on the inside of her thighs, then her abdomen, climbing along her body to lay down again next to her. He saw she had her eyes closed and was still gasping a little; a veil of perspiration covered her forehead.

“No revenge has ever been so sweet...” he whispered in her ear, grinning mischieviously. Erin opened her eyes.

“Then you began a blood feud right now”, she whispered in return. She turned her face to his and kissed him; on his lips, she tasted her own flavour, and thought stunned that it was a very erotic sensation.

They stayed in each other arms for a long time, caressing one another; at a certain point Erin’s gaze fell on the alarm clock.

“Oh, damn, it’s almost ten o’clock!” she cried, sitting up with a start. In the movement, her breasts bounced in a way that Jarod found absolutely irresistible, but before he could reach out for her, she was already standing up, “Sorry, but I really have to go”, she told him, smirking, “The fridge is empty: I have to buy something to eat, or in the next days we’re going to starve...” she stopped with a slight blush, “Will you stay for the week-end, won’t you?”

“Just try to send me away and you’ll see”, Jarod challenged her with a laugh, propping on one elbow, “I just have to go to the motel and take new clothes and my tooth-brush.”

They dressed and went out together, heading for the gym to get Erin’s car. The young woman, knowing she had to stay away longer than him, gave Jarod the keys to her house, one more proof of her confidence in him that left him speechless. After kissing him, not caring about bystanders, Erin climbed in her Solara and drove to the same shopping centre where Jarod had been a few days before.

When she returned home, around noon, she found Jarod while finishing setting the table; he had closed the curtains to create a twilight and lighted some candles. In a crystal vase he had found in the cupboard, he had put a few flowers: lilies and jonquils. Noticing this unusual ensemble, Erin thought it couldn’t be a coincidence: in the flower language, it meant that he was thanking her for becoming his woman and that he felt for her a burning desire. She looked him in the eyes, while a slow smile curled her lips.

“I didn’t know you knew the flower language”, she said. He came nearer and took the large bags from her arms.

“I didn’t know you knew it, either”, he answered, placing the packs on the kitchen counter, “Just in case, I prepared a card.”

He handed it to her, and she took it with trembling fingers. God, this man was affecting her so much!

On the card, he had drawn a red rose, the symbol for passion; the text, written in a resolute but slightly childish handwriting, reproduced in words the flower message: _Thank you for this morning; my desire for you is as wide as the sky. Jarod._

It was the very first time in all her life that she received a flower message; oh, sure, her ex husband had bought her flowers, but based only on their beauty and never minding their meaning, which anyway he didn’t know at all.

“Also my desire for you is as wide as the sky, Jarod”, she whispered, and it was plain that she wasn’t speaking of the sheer physical part, “and I thank you for this morning. I hope there’ll be many other mornings, and evenings, and nights...” her voice faded as she looked away with a sudden shy expression. Jarod felt a wave of tenderness and emotion for the allusions he had caught in her words. He wrapped his arms around her.

“I hope so, too”, he whispered, his lips pressed against her hair. They held tight for some moments, then Erin pulled gently back and glanced at him with a grin:

“Yesterday evening we had Greek: would you like to try now Irish cuisine?”

He returned her smile:

“I’d love to, I’ve never tried it.”

While Erin busied herself around the food, Jarod headed for the drawing room and found a number of Irish music CDs, which he placed in the small stereo in the kitchen; Erin flashed him a smile, approving his choice, and focused again on the food.

“I gave a look to your library”, Jarod said, “You have a noticeable collection of fantasy and SF books, as I expected... And in all the languages you told me you speak, but there’s one that I didn’t recognise.”

“Your name is _O’Donnell_ and you don’t recognise Irish Gaelic?” Erin laughed.

“Oh, that’s it!” he grumbled, “The fact is that my Irish ancestors are quite far”, he explained, inventing the story on the spot and hating himself because he had to lie to her, “I think he was my father’s grandfather, and the language hasn’t been handed down, in our family.”

“I understand. Well, after all not even my brother Sean’s children speak Gaelic, I think it’s more or less inevitable that the original language of an immigrated family gets lost, after one or two generation at the most.”

Half an hour later, Erin served a delicate pepper soup with cream, enriched with crêpes, followed by a lamb stew with boiled potatoes in a beer sauce; they drank a dark beer with a thick foam, deliciously bitter. At the end, they had the highly famous Irish Coffee, hot, strong, sweet and with lots of whiskey.

They loaded the dishwasher, then moved to the drawing room, where Erin prepared two glasses of ten-years-old Bushmills, without any ice nor seltz, explaining:

“Irish whiskey is best served neat and at room temperature.”

They drank, and Jarod declared:

“Just some more and I’ll get drunk.”

“You aren’t much used to alcohol, are you?”

“Indeed. But _you_ are, right?”

“Well, at home my mum and my granny compete for the best-cook home-award”, Erin chuckled, “And obviously every food has its most suitable drink. So, since I was a teen, I’ve been used to drink wine and beer. As for spirits, I have _grappa_ and brandy to my mother’s side, and sherry and whiskey to my grandmother’s side. I hold alcohol quite well, and that’s why I’ve never once got dead drunk in my whole life: what’s the reason to hangover for two days, later?”, she drank the last sip of Bushmills, “Anyway, there are moments when you can drink, like now, and others when it’s better not touching even a drop, like before a sport performance, or immediately after it, or when you drive.”

Jarod put down his glass.

“What about a walk?” he suggested, “So I sober up, and we can get rid of a few calories...” he thought about a more agreeable way to loose calories, and his glance became naughty, “There are other ways, of course...”

Erin’s lips curled into a promising smile:

“I agree, but I’d spare me for tonight...”

They took a bus to go at the state park, a few miles north of Santa Lorita, where they walked about lazily, hand in hand, sitting here and there on a bench and snogging like two teen-agers. And indeed, they felt that way: two carefree young people enjoying the discovery of mutual feelings, with light hearts and innocent souls.

It was almost dark when they returned home; they were hungry from the long walk, so they had a light dinner with different cheeses and mixed salad, this time drinking just water. In spite of the humble food, Jarod lighted again a few candles and put on romantic music, creating an atmosphere full of anticipation that ended up involving them to the point they forgot to clean up.

They went to bed early and fell asleep very late.


	6. Chapter VI: Andante Amoroso Part 2

 

Chapter VI: Andante Amoroso Part 2

 

Sunday, June 16th, 06.35 a.m.

 

Erin was sleeping, lost in a peaceful sleep, a slight smile lingering on her lips. She was dreaming...

_Loving arms were around her, she was feeling the comforting warmth of a male body crouched against hers, on the nape of her neck the pressure of tender and hot lips... Here was finally somebody who loved her, who wanted her, who would chase away the loneliness troubling her heart... Then suddenly she found herself alone, abandoned, refused... No, no, not again, she couldn’t stand it... Anguish crushed her chest, taking her breath away, choking her..._

Erin woke up with a start, gasping for air, her heart pounding wildly, a lump in her throat, an iron grasp squeezing her stomach. The early sun illuminated the closed curtains. She was in her bed... and terrified she realised she was alone.

“Jarod...” she squeaked. An indescribable panic took possession of her soul, cancelling all her rationality: he was gone, he had left her!

She stood up; naked, her legs yielding in distress, she staggered through the room to go out looking for him. Walking by the guest bathroom, she stumbled and almost crashed into the closed door. She leaned heavily on it, trying to regain her balance. Through the wooden panel, the faint noise of the shower reached her. Her eyes widened in disbelief; her breath hanging on a hope she didn’t dare to believe yet, she wrenched the door open.

Scared by the sudden noise, Jarod spun around; he was under the shower, his well-built body covered only by a few curls of foam, and he stared at Erin through the transparent Plexiglas of the box. He saw her, one hand on her throat, her chest raising and lowering convulsively as if she had been about to choke and was now breathing better. He realised that she had been in a terrible anguish, even if he couldn’t guess the reason: maybe a bad dream? He moved to meet her, to offer her his comfort, but she anticipated him, opened the box door and jumped in. She threw her arms around his neck and Jarod could see that she was on the verge of tears. She trembled violently in his arms, and he held her tight, stroking her back to reassure her, while water was soaking her from head to toe.

“It’s all right, baby”, he whispered in her ear, “It’s all right... I’m here, with you.”

After a few moments, Erin stopped shaking and raised her head to look at him. Her eyes were still immense and wide open because of the fear she had felt.

“I’m sorry”, she whispered, ashamed by her weakness, “For a terrible moment, I thought you were gone. Right gone, with no reason, like...” her voice trailed off, but Jarod guessed the rest: like _the other one_.

“I’d never do such a thing on my own will”, he declared firmly, “They’d have to take me away from you by force!”

To emphasise his words, he lowered his head and kissed her. Erin opened immediately her mouth, clutching on his lips as if they were her salvation, and Jarod realised once and for all that, if she was his lifeline, he was hers. From that moment on, none of them could ever forsake the other one.

Desire shot through them like a fire, a desire that was of both body and soul, a desire that was need.

She felt the evidence of his longing against her abdomen, and shoved one hand between their clinging bodies to caress him intimately. Jarod groaned, his parted lips against hers. Erin kissed him in the most arousing way she knew, wishing to make him understand how much she wanted him.

He understood; flattered, he slipped one hand between them and searched for the most hidden folds of her body. Feeling his fingers coming forward, Erin lifted one leg and twisted it around his to favour him. Gently, Jarod plunged one finger into the core of her femininity: with water pouring on them, he couldn’t feel her wetness, but he caught her warmth, and the moan she uttered couldn’t be mistaken. With a gasp, he clasped her buttocks and lifted her from the ground, propping her against the wall to keep his balance.

The tiles were cold, but Erin barely noticed it; she lifted her knees and closed her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles behind him. Looking into her eyes, Jarod lowered her on himself, slowly, because she was still very narrow.

Erin grasped his shoulders as she felt him penetrating cautiously, deeply, into her body. His tenderness, plain sign that he cared for her, touched her beyond every word. She felt him beginning to move inside of her, with that strength mingled with gentleness she had already experienced the day before. In this position, she was completely at his mercy; filled with a trust that she hadn’t believed she could ever feel anymore, she surrendered to Jarod, placing her head on his shoulder and allowing him to do whatever he wanted.

He sensed her yielding and felt incredibly moved. _I love you_ , he thought, biting his lower lip as not to shout it aloud, _I love you_ … He held back, because such words, uttered in this very moment, could easily be mistaken for just a momentary fancy, while he meant them seriously.

He would wait.

And in the meantime, he would take her to paradise.

He sank one hand in her hair and pulled back her head, close to his; this way, he had her breasts almost exactly at level with his face. He began to bite gently the soft mounds, until he seized one nipple with his lips, sucking softly.

Erin inhaled abruptly and realised she wanted to scream out loud in pleasure. Unable to restrain herself, she began to utter a throaty groan, at first low, than gradually louder, until it broke out in a yell as she reached the top, arching her body in bliss. Some more thrusts, and she felt Jarod bursting inside of her with a hot spout and a delighted gasp. Breathless, she collapsed in his arms, feeling weak.

Little by little, their breaths calmed down. Erin’s legs loosened their grasp around Jarod’s waist, and he let her gently slip down, back on her feet, but still holding her tight. He went on kissing her flushed face, her brow, her eyes, her nose, her cheekbones, until he reached her mouth, where he lingered for a long time, tenderly.

“It’s wonderful making love with you”, he whispered on her lips. Erin felt a lump in her throat and wasn’t able to reply, but her that said the same thing.

They were both exhausted: that way to make love was tiring at least as much as it was satisfying.

“I’ve never made it this way”, Erin stated in a slightly stunned tone. Jarod blinked as he realised the reason she was telling him this: she wanted to let him know that she had made with him something she had never made with her ex.

To make him feel special.

_What a woman!_ he thought.

“Nor did I”, he admitted, “I hope you liked it.”

“Very much indeed”, she answered, grinning back at him, “And you?”

“I, too. But I’m really… how to say… _broken_ , so please don’t ask me to do it again too soon!” Jarod added, making a face and massaging the protesting muscles of his lower back. She couldn’t help but chuckled, then kissed him on his chin:

“Don’t worry, here’s the same!”

They finished showering, enjoying lathering each other; then they dried their faces and bodies with large towels, got dressed and headed for the kitchen to have breakfast.

They were loading the dishwasher, adding the tableware they had forgotten the night before, when they heard the doorbell ringing with a pleasant carillon. Jarod tensed as the frightful thought that the Centre might already have found him shot through his mind. But how could they? He had even avoided contact with Sydney by phone, contrary to what normally did since the day he had escaped, not wanting to risk being somehow discovered...

Erin noticed he was frightened and guessed it had to do with the secret he was hiding; then she recalled the reason why someone was ringing at her door and slapped her forehead:

“Gosh, I completely forgot I had to go out with Marge! Excuse me one minute, Jarod...”

She ran to the hall and, after checking through the peephole, she quickly opened the door. Her friend, a pretty woman of colour about 40 years old, greeted her with a smile:

“Hi Erin, are you ready?”

“Sorry, Marge... something happened...” Erin began, quite embarrassed: it was really not her habit screwing her dates. She glanced involuntarily at the blue Corvette parked in front of her house; Marge followed the direction of her gaze, then turned to look at her, noticing only now her friend’s bright eyes and radiant expression.

“Oh...” she said, as her fleshy lips bent in a naughty grin, “Is this _something_ tall, blond and handsome?”

“As a matter of fact, he’s tall, _brown_ and handsome”, Erin corrected her chucking.

“Well, if you want my opinion, I’d say it was about time!” Marge commented, opening her arms and hugging her with affection, “Go back to him and don’t think about anything else, but tomorrow morning make up carefully to hide the black rings around your eyes...!”

Erin slapped her shoulder, pretending to be angry, and after taking her leave, she got back inside, laughing. She reached Jarod in the kitchen, where he had just finished loading the dishwasher.

He turned and caught her by surprise asking her unexpectedly:

“Is the mall open, on Sundays?”

Erin frowned, perplexed:

“Yes, sure, but why?”

“I want to go and buy drawing paper, an easel and wax colours”, he answered, “I feel like to paint a portrait of you, and today there’s a fantastic light.”

Erin was amazed and didn’t hide it:

“Jarod, you really never stop amazing me!”

“And I hope to continue doing so for a long time!” he replied merrily.

 

OOO

 

It was almost noon, when he returned with the supplies. He found Erin in the kitchen; there was a delicious aroma in the air, which made his mouth water.

“Oven-baked _lasagne_ ”, she announced, smiling and kissing him lightly, “I set the table outside, under the gazebo. It’s ready in fifteen minutes.”

They had lunch on the stony table and, as usual, Jarod was enthusiastic: Erin was really a very good cook, virtue that summed over all the many ones he was discovering.

Later, Erin asked him if she had to change her dress for the portrait. He grinned mischievously:

“Actually, I was thinking to paint a nude”, he teased her, not speaking seriously. Erin smirked back to him and stripped in no time, ending up in her birthday suit; Jarod stared, stunned.

“I suspected”, she said and in her voice a laugh was wibrating. He shook his head, grinning: he had to think better than teasing her! Erin’s sensuality and sexuality came not without modesty – her frequent blushes proved it, making her look like a naïve young girl – but they were joyful, carefree and playful, free of hypocrisy and false modesty. Being with her meant spending happy hours, in every way.

He asked her to kneel down next to a bloomed bush, three-quarters, in her hands a yellow lily and in her hair a white camellia; Erin knew the meaning of these two flowers: it was respectively _you are my queen_ and _I adore you_. She simply couldn’t believe that someone would feel that way for her: her natural modesty prevented her.

Jarod worked quickly, but it took him all the same about one hour to complete it, with a few breaks to allow Erin stretching her legs. The sun shone hot, birds twittered and the air was full of the scent of the flowers and plants of the Irish garden.

“It’s superb”, Erin sighed, staring in awe at the portrait. The bright colours and the firm lines revealed Jarod’s optimistic and resolute character, while the pose he had chosen for her and the light permeating the picture indicated his romanticism and sensitiveness.

“It’s yours”, Jarod said, happy she liked it. Erin looked at him and in her eyes, Jarod read such a deep feeling, he felt lost in it. A wonderful sensation.

“Thank you”, she whispered; she grasped his hands and kissed them one by one, “Nobody has ever given me such a beautiful and precious present.”

Jarod wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Because she was still naked, he couldn’t avoid his body reacting to hers, and when Erin noticed it, she pulled back with a merry laugh.

“Catch me!” she challenged him, mimicking a childish voice, and ran away to dive in the swimming pool. As she re-emerged, in her wet hair water drops blazed like diamonds, making her more seductive than the mermaid he had compared her to a few weeks before.

 

Jarod made a face to hide a smile and accepted her challenge: he undressed quickly and plunged. It was easy for him to catch her, but of course, she had no intention to escape him: as he seized her by her waist and turned her to him, she threw her arms around his neck. Jarod carried her where the water was less deep; there, he sat down, his back propped against the edge, and lifted her in his lap. He kissed her passionately, as his hand wandered along her back, her hip, her thigh; he used his fingers to caress the fold behind her knee and a sigh of pleasure encouraged him. Then, he slipped one hand between her thighs, brushing the sensitive skin of the inner side, climbing slowly; she parted her legs, inviting him to go on.

Jarod broke off the kiss, but immediately he placed his lips to the edge of her chin, right under her ear; there, he lingered, nipping gently. Erin threw back her head, exposing her pulsing throat, and he moved his mouth upon it, caressing her with the tip of his tongue. Meanwhile, his hand had continued climbing slowly along the inside of her legs and his fingers had now reached the junction of her thighs; he brushed the core of her womanhood and felt its heat.

Feeling him touching her, Erin held her breath, then moaned softly and opened her legs wider, yearning for his touch. She felt such a strong need that, if Jarod would take her that very moment, she would be ready for him. Jarod’s fingers went on exploring the soft, warm flesh between her legs, with a gentle as well as exciting touch, and Erin moaned again. God, she wanted him so badly! Not only his body, even if it was highly desirable, but _him_ …

Feverishly, she began to kiss him at the base of his throat, darting with her tongue, while with her fingertips she drew increasingly smaller rings around his stiffened nipples. Then, she lowered her head and took one between her lips, and at the same moment Jarod slid one finger inside of her, brushing her clit and making her shiver in pleasure. She realised she wouldn’t stand it not even one second longer; Jarod realised it, too, feeling a spout of warmth hitting his fingers. He withdrew his hand, and Erin pulled back to rise on her knees in front of him. Yearn fogged Jarod’s gaze as his eyes caressed her gorgeous shape; for the first time in her life, Erin felt confident about her beauty. Instinctively, she adopted a seductive pose, lifting the wet mass of her hair with both arms and pushing forward her upper body. Jarod’s gaze darkened even more; he extended his arms and grasped her waist, pulling her to him and sitting her in his lap, her beautiful legs around him; but before he could penetrate her, she slipped one hand between their bodies and seized him at the base of his shaft, stroking its whole length. He uttered a cry of surprised pleasure and she flashed him a charming smile, full of promises, continuing touching him in this exciting way. Jarod reciprocated her smile with one as seductive as hers and slipped one hand between her legs, beginning caressing her again. It was Erin’s turn to utter a cry and Jarod’s smile widened.

“We reap as we sow”, he murmured, before kissing her.

“Traitor...!” she whispered in return on his lips. She grasped his hand and pulled it away, then lifted her pelvis, rubbing herself against him, and finally she lowered herself slowly on his manliness. A little adjustment and he slipped easily inside of her: she wasn’t so narrow anymore to demand particular caution, but in spite of this, Jarod preferred penetrating her slowly, relishing every single inch of the warm depths of her body.

They moved in unison, languidly, with wide and sweet movements, both longing to make it last as long as possible. Thrust upon thrust, pleasure began pooling, growing little by little, setting them on fire, dragging them in the turmoil of delight, hurling them to the top, until they vibrated, in their bodies as well as in their souls, like the strings of an ineffable instrument. At last, Erin climaxed, throwing back her head and uttering that cry of hers that made his heart pound hard; Jarod called her name, repeating it in a _crescendo_ that arrived to the top, went on and calmed down at the rhythm of his orgasm. The spasms of the almost simultaneous climax amplified his and her pleasure equally, leaving both incredulous and breathless.

Hearts pounding wildly, out of breath, they held so tight as if they wouldn’t let go any more of one another, until they returned on standard mode, still holding each other, reluctant to pull away, prolonging this perfect moment in time as they caressed each other tenderly. Jarod brushed her brow with his lips, then her temple and her cheek.

“I had no idea...” he whispered, cupping her face and looking into her eyes, “I had no idea it could be possible to fee this way...” he stopped, searching for the most appropriate description.

“ _This way_ how?” Erin asked softly, her heart beating hard. Jarod found the words:

“As if I was alone in the desert, almost dying from thirst, and I found a spring of pure and fresh water. As if the emptiness of my soul was suddenly filled. As if I found the missing half of my being...”

Erin felt tears welling up in her eyes and blinked; she leaned over and kissed him.

“I feel the same way”, she admitted. Jarod caressed her cheek, his eyes full of light.

“I love you”, he said, simply. Erin felt her heart losing one beat and then begin to dance a mad samba. She opened her mouth to reply, but her voice refused to come out. Jarod placed two fingers on her lips.

“You don’t have to say anything”, he whispered, “if it’s too soon for you, if you’re not sure... I’ll wait as long as it takes, until the day you’ll feel ready to tell me that you, too, love me.”

Speechless, moved, Erin kissed his lips, nose, forehead, eyelids, the tiny mole under his right eye, again his lips, holding him tight. Then she cupped his face, like he had done to her earlier, and whispered:

“Thank you, Jarod.”

 

OOO

 

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing merrily in the water and sunbathing, laying down on large towels spread in the scented grass, where they exchanged kisses and caresses.

“I’ve known you... let me think... for three weeks?” Jarod considered at a certain point, in a soft tone and looking her in the eyes, “But it seems to me that I’ve known you for a long, long time. I have this strange feeling that, as a matter of fact, I knew you even before I met you...”

Erin swallowed hard.

“I, too, have this strange feeling. Besides, when I met you the first time, I felt a blow in my head”, she whispered, “Right here”, she touched her nape, “It happened to me only once before...”

Her voice trailed off and she lowered her gaze. Jarod’s heart ached.

“With your ex-husband, isn’t it?” he asked softly. At Erin’s surprised glance, he felt he had to explain: “Jean told me something, the first night at the gym. She loves you, don’t you know?” he grinned, “She threatened to beat me, if I was to mess around with you, martial artist or not”, at this news, Erin, too, smiled, “Then the other night I heard your conversation – it wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help it – and so I realised I had to make a move.”

Erin had blushed like a little schoolgirl and hadn’t the heart to raise her glance. Jarod took her hands and gently squeezed them.

“I understand that you loved and suffered very much, and the idea to trust again somebody who could betray you, like your ex-husband did, terrifies you. Erin, I swear to you that...”

Abruptly, she raised one hand and placed it on his mouth, silencing him.

“Don’t swear”, she begged him on an urgent tone, “ _He_ swore in the most solemn way, in front of God and men, and didn’t keep his word...”

Her voice faded; then Jarod covered her hand with his and kissed her fingers, one by one.

“I hope _that man_ will never cross my way”, he growled with unusual fierceness, “I’d be capable to kill him because of all the pain he caused to you...”

He held her tight; Erin, her head on his chest, heard his heart beating strong and a little erratically, and the sound had the power to calm her down. She returned his embrace.

“I will gain your trust”, Jarod declared in a low voice, “As I told you before, I’ll wait as long as it takes, a month, a year, I don’t care. Please, just give me a chance.”

She was unable to say anything: a lump stuck in her throat. She nodded only, but it was enough for him. He made her lift her face to his and placed his lips on hers, softly, tenderly. He slowly fell backwards on the large towel and dragged her with him, not stopping raining kisses all over her face. Erin returned his kisses, her heart pounding hard, and they stayed this way, kissing like teen-agers, for an undefined time.

 

OOO

 

As the night fell, they had dinner and then watched an adventurous movie, cuddling on the large sofa in her drawing room. When they went to bed, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, thinking that the world was perfect, at last.


	7. Chapter VII: Allegro Part 1

 

Chapter VII: Allegro Part 1

 

Monday, June 17th, 08.30 a.m.

 

The day after, Erin needed to go to the gym quite early, therefore Jarod, as his black belt lesson was due in the evening, returned to the motel.

Jean welcomed Erin with a smile full of anticipation:

“So, how was it?” she enquired, intrigued. Erin put on her best poker face:

“Fine, thanks”, she answered in an indifferent tone, to keep her hanging a little longer. But she could’t fool Jean not even for one second: they had been friends for more than ten years, and she knew her far too good.

“C’mon, spill the beans!” Jean urged her, eagerly. Erin kept silent for a few moments, just to increase even more her friend’s expectation, then produced one of those smiles as bright as the sun of hers:

“We spent the whole weekend together.”

“WOW!” Jean cried, enthusiastic, “And you stayed in bed the whole time?”

“Jeanie!” Erin burst out, laughing, “D’you know you’re really indiscreet?“

“Sure I do, but are we or are we not best friends? This means we exchange the hottest secrets, isn’t it?”

This was true, Erin admitted by herself; but in the last two years or so, it had always been Jean telling hot secrets to her, and not vice-versa. Well, finally time had arrived for _her_ to tell hot secrets, thought she with a naughty grin.

“No, we didn’t stay in bed the whole time”, she answered therefore, chuckling, “We stayed also under the shower, and in the swimming-pool...”

Jean burst into laughter, glad for her friend.

“It’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you... You truly deserve it.”

“Thank you, Jean... But please, when you’ll see him, tonight, don’t scold him again!” at her quizzical glance, Erin explained, “He told me that the first day you threatened to hit him...”

Jean giggled:

“I saw immediately the way he looked at you, and I warned him”, she admitted, “But later I realised he wasn’t kidding around: otherwise I wouldn’t have encouraged you, for sure!”

They chatted for awhile, speaking in the explicit way that women use among them and that could make the most experienced gigolo blush, but had to stop when the first patrons arrived.

Jarod couldn’t stand to stay apart from Erin the whole day and at noon he called her for a picnic. She accepted gladly and, under Jean’s mischievous gaze, she left the gym to jump in Jarod’s car. The urban park was much smaller than the state park they had visited on Saturday, but equally nice; they spread out a blanket on the lawn and sat on it, eating the sandwiches and the fruit salad that Jarod had prepared, and drinking apple juice. Then they laid under a tree, holding one another, for a short rest.

“Will you stay at mine and sleepover tonight?” Erin asked after a few minutes.

“Only _sleep_ over?” Jarod joked. She laughed:

“After the black belts training, usually I’m exhausted!”

The young man thought briefly:

“I, too, as a matter of fact”, he admitted, “But you can never say...” he grinned, then he kissed her hair, “Sure I’ll come at yours. Anytime you want me to.”

She crouched against his chest, feeling all of a sudden a great peacefulness. Her fears forgotten, her loneliness forgotten, she felt as if she was living a magical moment. Her wounded heart had found a balm that was healing it little by little. Tears of pure happiness filled her eyes and she held Jarod tight.

But she wasn’t able to speak out the fatal sentence.

 

Wednesday, June 19th, 09.40 p.m.

 

The cordless phone rang only two times:

“Sydney.”

On the other side of the satellite connection, only two words:

“It’s me.”

“Jarod!” the psychiatrist cried, happily surprised, “It’s been a long while since you called last time. Are you all right?”

 

His interlocutor didn’t answer directly the question, asking instead another one:

“Sydney, what is happiness?”

Sydney thought quickly:

“It’s different for each person. But as a general rule, you can say that happiness is the satisfaction of a desire, the soothing of a worry.”

A short pause.

“Is it possible finding your happiness in another person?”

The elderly man lifted his eyebrow, realising suddenly what his ex protégé wanted to tell him. He thought about his own life, the woman he had met and lost because of the Centre, and then found again thanks to Jarod’s help, along with the son he didn’t know he had. Michelle and Nicholas. They could well be _his_ happiness.

“Sure”, he answered, “Mostly it’s this, indeed”, he kept silent for a moment, “You know, there’s an ancient legend in Greek mythology... It goes that, at the beginning of time, existed a perfect being, complete, both male and female. Then, one cursed day, this being wronged the gods; to punish it, they flung a lightning that divided it in two separated parts. From that time on, the two halves spend all their lives seeking for one another to reunite and regain the perfect harmony, the ineffable completeness they have lost.”

There was a pause, longer than earlier, then Jarod concluded:

“Well, I’ve found my other half.”

Sydney perceived a smile through the air and smiled in turn:

“I’m glad you found a woman.”

“ _My_ woman”, Jarod corrected, “Tell Miss Parker that she can take a long holiday, you won’t hear from me so soon.”

This said, he broke the call off, as usual without taking leave.

Sydney placed the phone back on the desk, passing his fingers through his white hair as he leaned on the stuffed chair-back. A faint smile played on his lips: did Jarod truly meet his woman? He still remembered how he was at a loss, a few years back, when he had met Nia and consciously discovered love for the first time. Sydney knew that Jarod’s true first love had been Miss Parker, but he also knew that, at that time, the boy didn’t have a clue about his feelings, and he felt still guilty for never having told him. But, unlike with Nia, Jarod had now sounded different, certain about his feelings like only an adult can be. And indeed, in the years he had spent away from the Centre, Jarod had matured at a stunning speed as a person, and to his huge knowledge – that could easily be compared to half a dozen graduations – he had added the wisdom of experience, becoming a man.

If he really had met his woman, Sydney could only be happy for him. He decided, not for the first time, to tell no one about this call: Jarod had the right to enjoy a happy time.

 

Friday, June 21st, 03.30 p.m.

 

During that entrancing week, Erin decided to suspend her reason, which didn’t’ cease to warn her against the future, and to enjoy the wonderful moment. The words of the elderly Chinese woman she had met in San Francisco still echoed in her mind: _You are not alone anymore, and you won’t be ever again_. Not that she had ever unconditionally believed in supernatural, but she had always been sure that there _had_ to be something real; and something inside of her told her she had to trust those words. Therefore, at least for a few days, she set aside her fears and lived fully the astounding new blossoming of her heart.

As the days passed by, the conviction that Jarod was the true embodiment of her ideal partner became increasingly stronger: he was always there when she needed him, but at the same time, he was very discreet; he sensed her wishes and moods, and respected them; he was willing to give his all and asked nothing in exchange for it. Nevertheless, she continued perceiving inside of her some sort of hard nucleus that refused the complete surrender to her feelings: her heart had just begun to recover, and it was still very reluctant to expose itself again to the risk of a wound as deep as the one it had already suffered.

There was only one thing troubling her, in Jarod: now and then, in the most diverse moments, she caught in his gaze such an abyss of sadness that left her crushed. When he realised she was noticing it, he always quickly changed expression and forced himself to put in better spirits; Erin would ask him about the reason of his melancholy, but she didn’t want to pry, therefore, for the time being, she decided to keep silent.

They didn’t foresee spending together another fiery week-end, because Erin, as regular as a watch because she was on the pill for years for medical reasons, had her period; furthermore, several weeks before she had booked a camping-place in Yosemite National Park; so, this day, by mid-afternoon, they left for the park on Erin’s motorcycle. Jarod had purchased helmet and gloves, and a leather jacket, too, with appropriate protections, so he journeyed well equipped.

On Saturday morning, they admired the fantastic Yosemite Falls, the fifth highest falls in the world, which with three spectacular leaps jumped over a height of about 2400 feet (730 metres); then, they spent the rest of the day in Yosemite Valley, enthralled like children in front of the extraordinary sight of the Half Dome and El Capitan, and of the fantastic formations called Three Brothers and Cathedral Rocks and Spires. Erin pointed out the exact spot where a number of scenes of a _Star Trek_ movie had been shot, and with Jarod she cheerfully sang the song the three main characters had intoned in the light of a camp-fire.

On Sunday, they walked among the giant sequoias of Mariposa Grove and then had a merry picnic on the shores of Mirror Lake, so called because of the beautiful reflexes the sun takes from its surface.

Jarod drove on the way back, turning out as a very good rider.

They returned to Santa Lorita in the evening, tired but satisfied with this wonderful trip in the nature.

 

Thursday, June 27th, 10.50 p.m.

 

On this evening, Erin had suggested Jarod to play _Dungeons & Dragons_, a board-game. Erin was the _master_ , while Jarod was busy with a single-character-game, and they were having very much fun. At last, Jarod was able to complete his mission and, as a prize, Erin kissed him passionately.

“Mmmmmhhh…” he breathed, as finally Erin pulled back, “For such a kiss, I’d face ten dragons, not only one!”

She couldn’t help but smile:

“Wait until you reach at least the twenty-fourth level, my handsome druid!”

That was indeed the character he had chosen as an _alter ego_ in the fantastic world of _Dungeons & Dragons_.

“You mean it’d be better, hah?” he grumbled, having been many times in trouble, “Maybe you’re right”, he admitted, kissing her on the tip of her nose, “But don’t you write exactly this – how did you call it? – _heroic fantasy_?”

“Yeah, right”, Erin confirmed, “That’s why I adore this role-play-game.”

“I was being serious, when I told you I’d like to read some of your stuff”, Jarod declared, and recalling how she had reacted, he quickly added, “But only if you want to.”

Erin looked into his eyes, those warm eyes the colour of chocolate that could show such deep and vast feelings, leaving her breathless; instinct told her loudly that she could trust him, completely, in all circumstances, but her reason still warned her about letting herself go. She bit her lower lip: on one side, she would like him reading her latest novel, about the warrior/healer woman, but on the other side, there was so much of herself in what she wrote that it was like exposing her very soul, naked, to the reader’s mockery… whoever he or she was.

“I allowed only very few people reading what I write”, she said therefore, lowering her gaze, “but I’d like really much you reading my latest novel. Just… give me some time to get used to the idea, will you?”

Jarod lifted her chin and kissed her lips, softly.

“But sure, baby: all the time you need. You already know that.”

It was true, she knew that: he wasn’t pushing her about their relationship, and surely he wouldn’t push her to read her writings.

Erin looked at him again.

“I’d like you to come and move in with me”, she declared impulsively, then, realising the enormity she had just spoken, she added shyly, “Unless you think it’s too much…”

Jarod smiled at her: he couldn’t ask for anything better than moving in with her.

Possibly for the rest of his life.

“I’d be happy to, sweetheart.”

 

Saturday, June 29th, 04.45 p.m.

 

“Erin, would you like to go out dancing, tonight?” Jarod asked her unexpectedly, performing a quick move of _salsa_ , “You told me you like Caribbean dances, don’t you?”

“Yeah, right”, she confirmed, “I know a very nice place, where sometimes the patrons of my gym go; you can dance outdoors, and if you want, you can have Mexican food. There’s also a bar where you can sing _karaoke_ style, if you like to try.”

With Erin’s lovingly help, combined with his Pretender skills, in the last days Jarod hadn’t taken long to learn everything about singing.

“Sure! It’ll be fun”, he said therefore.

Thus, at about 6.30 p.m., they changed and prepared to go out.

Once more, setting eyes on Jarod, Erin felt her blood boil: with a dark suit and black t-shirt, he was simply fabulous.

 

“If you look at me that way a little longer, we won’t go out tonight”, he warned her huskily. Indeed, her sight had taken his breath away: her hair was up in a complicated hairdo uncovering her neck, one of the parts of her body he found most attractive; she wore a quite short dress of some kind of sparkling violet cloth, and it turned around her neck, baring her shoulders and the upper part of her back. Moreover, around her floated that exciting vanilla and white musk perfume of hers that drove him mad.

Erin took swiftly her eyes off him, because his gaze had set her on fire. Okay, she had chosen on purpose this sexy outfit to be admired by him, but she hadn’t believed she would be able to stir up such a devastating effect. All of a sudden, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go out anymore…

Somehow, they managed to restrain themselves from jumping each other and drove to the _Blue Caribbean_. There, the waiter, an attractive Hispanic guy in his middle twenties, led them to the table they had booked, where they had a very spicy appetizer of _jalapeños y queso_ , followed by tasty _tacos_ and _enchiladas_ , with some light Mexican beer.

As they finished, they headed for the dance floor in the garden; the orchestra was playing a Cuban _salsa_ , and Erin and Jarod joined the other people, beginning to dance. After a few pieces, it looked as if they had danced together forever: Jarod had just to do slight moves, and Erin reacted, and they performed increasingly more complicated and spectacular steps. Quickly, it was plain that they were the best dancers on the floor, and the most expert couple, and many people turned to look at them, impressed or envious.

Later came a few _merengue_ pieces, a funny dance with a steady rhythm and simpler steps, so they took it even easier. At last there was _bachata_ , a dance that could be extremely sensual if performed by an actual couple. As they were it, their moves became very sexy: allusive without being explicit, flesh and soul tightly interlaced, love and not only sex. To those watching at them it was plain that they loved each other deeply.

They danced without stopping for over two hours, then, tired and hot, they headed for the bar. They took a seat at a table and a waitress came for their orders. Erin chose tequila and Schweppes, and Jarod decided to have the same. The girl returned after a short time with their drinks and a plasticised booklet, which turned out to be the list of the available songs the patrons could perform. While leafing through it, an idea formed in Jarod’s mind: what about singing a song for Erin? Something special speaking about his feelings for her…

His gaze lingered on a title of Shania Twain, Erin’s favourite singer. It was _From This Moment On_ , a poignant love song that he judged perfect. He booked it without telling Erin a word; even if she was curious, she didn’t ask anything, with her usual discretion.

Meanwhile, on the stage men and women followed one another, alone or in groups more or less numerous; all received applauses, proportionate to their skills, even the most tone-deaf, at least for the pleasantness or the bravery they showed. When it was his turn, Jarod stood up under Erin’s encouraging gaze and headed for the stage; he took the microphone the deejay was handing him and prepared to sing. He felt his heart pounding hard: not because of the way the audience would judge him, as he didn’t care about this, but because of what Erin might think about such a romantic and passionate statement in front of a crowd, among which there were also many people she knew.

Well, the dice had been cast and it was too late for withdrawal.

The music began to play and Erin’s eyes, recognising immediately the piece, slowly widened.

Jarod delivered the first verses in a low voice:

 

_I just swear that I’ll always be there,_

_I give anything and everything and I will always care_

_Through weakness and strength,_

_Happiness and sorrow_

_For better, for worse_

_I will love you with every beat of my heart_

The electronic player piano imitated a low organ chord that gave Erin shivers along her back; Jarod, too, shuddered.

 

_From this moment life has begun_

_From this moment you are the one_

_Right beside you is where I belong_

_From this moment on_

A lump stuck in Erin’s throat, as her heart swell with emotion; Jarod felt his throat closing and swallowed hard.

 

_From this moment I have been blessed_

_I live only for your happiness_

_And for your love I’ll give my last breath_

_From this moment on_

 

Tears welled up in Erin’s eyes, and she blinked; Jarod had to make great efforts to control his trembling voice.

 

_I give my hand to you with all my heart_

_I can’t wait to live my life with you_

_I can’t wait to start_

_You and I will never be apart_

_My dreams came true because of you_

Tears overflowed Erin’s eyes and began streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t care to wipe them off; her heart ached from the intensity of the emotion she was feeling.

Jarod was looking her straight in the eyes; as he saw her weeping, his voice almost failed him, but somehow he was able to go on.

 

_From this moment, as long as I live_

_I will love you, I promise you this_

_There is nothing I wouldn’t give_

_From this moment on_

Erin began to realise what he was trying to tell her, and felt as if she couldn’t breathe anymore.

Jarod could barely control his voice, which threatened to stick in his throat; he began the _crescendo_ :

 

_You’re the reason I believe in love_

_And you’re the answer to my prayers from all above_

_All we need is just the two of us_

_My dreams came true because of you_

Then Jarod’s voice reached full power on the final verses, which went as straight as arrows to Erin’s heart, crushing, erasing all possible doubt that could still harbour in it concerning the honesty and deepness of the feelings Jarod had for her:

 

_From this moment, as long as I live_

_I will love you, I promise you this_

_There is nothing I wouldn’t give_

_From this moment on_

The conclusion arrived with a _pianissimo_ , that Jarod sang with a voice, gravelly with emotion, which stirred up tears in the eyes of the whole audience:

_I will love you as long as I live_

_From this moment on_

 

Jarod didn’t wait the song to fade on the finale: when the crowd burst out into a thundering ovation, he went off stage and headed hastily for Erin, pulled her to stand up and wrapped his arms around her, wiping off her tears with kisses. Involved in their plain emotion, the audience increased the intensity of the applause.

Erin couldn’t utter even a single word, as a huge lump was sealing her throat, preventing her from speaking, but she grabbed him desperately. As the ovation around them faded, she held him, trying to tell him silently that she felt the same way he did.

Jarod perceived clearly her emotion, but because she wasn’t expressing herself with words, fearing he could seem presumptuous, he didn’t fully trust his intuition, even if it told him loud and clear that she loved him as much as he did love her.

“Let’s go home”, he heard her finally whisper in his ear, “This crowd suffocates me.”

They got in Jarod’s Corvette and drove home. He would have liked to take her hand during the trip, but the stiff pose of her shoulders dissuaded him. He felt her confused feelings as if they were his own, and thought it wiser to give her some time to make them up.

But the 30 minutes they needed to arrive home weren’t enough to calm down the emotions that whirled in Erin’s mind, on the opposite, they became wilder. Inserting the key in the keyhole, she realised her hands were shaking hard. She needed two attempts to manage opening the door, and when she entered into the dining room, she ran through it and took shelter in the bathroom. She needed to be shortly on her own, to meditate, to understand if, between the two contrasting feelings stirring inside of her, the stronger was love or terror.

Jarod understood it; however, he couldn’t help but feeling hurt. Their relationship had started just 15 days ago, and he had promised her he would wait as long as it took, but only now he was realising how hard the waiting was. He had hoped that somehow, with that song, he could unfreeze the situation, making Erin admit her love for him – he _knew_ she loved him, every move, every gaze of hers said it unmistakably. Sure, actions spoke louder than words, but Jarod wished desperately to hear her saying the crucial _I love you, too_ …

No, he told himself, it was selfish from his part, and heaven knew how much selfishness Erin had suffered in the past. He hadn’t to force her, he couldn’t do this to her. He would grit his teeth and wait longer; sooner or later, his patience would be rewarded, sooner or later she would realise that, rather than hurting her, he would prefer killing himself.

But – _God!_ – he wished so badly that she would throw her arms around his neck, telling him she loved him! He would daze her with kisses and hold her tight all night long. He would reassure her, cuddle her, persuade her that she could trust him…

Miserable, he sat on the couch, propped his elbows on his knees and laid his head in his hands. He felt like weeping.

 

OOO

 

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, under an almost cold shower, Erin was thinking about the man sitting in her drawing room.

Her brain was swirling, seeking an answer, a certainty, but she wasn’t able to make up her mind, torn into violent and opposite emotions.

Then, with no warning, Erin felt a flutter in her stomach.

She blinked, incredulous.

She payed more attention.

Again, she felt the butterflies.

“Oh, good heaven…” she whispered, at the same time with joy and terror, “Oh, good heaven…”

Her legs shook uncontrollably, so she had to sit down on the box floor, her heart thumping wildly. She gathered all her strong will, the terrible will that only a person who has deeply suffered possesses, and finally managed to find an almost normal resemblance of equilibrium that could allow her to face Jarod.

About ten minutes later, Erin came out from the bathroom, barefoot and with a light bathrobe wrapped around her. She saw Jarod through the open door of the drawing room; she froze on the threshold, as if slapped across her face: he seemed as in deep grief! Her heart ached and she felt the urge to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and reassure him.

So it was that, suddenly, the truth was revealed, undeniable: love was stronger than terror.

She approached the sofa and knelt in front of Jarod; he lifted his head to look at her, and the tears that were sparkling in his dark eyes almost made her heart split. She grasped his hands and kissed them tenderly.

“Do you really love me?” she whispered in a trembling voice, looking for confirmations, “Really?”

Ever since he had told her two weeks ago, he hadn’t repeated it, sensing it would embarrass her. Now, his throat too tight, Jarod simply nodded, slowly, solemnly. Erin cupped his cheeks and looked deeply into his eyes.

“How… how do you know?” she whispered, stumbling on the first word. He covered her hands with his and pressed gently. His mind was whirling, trying to find the right answer, the one that would definitely dispel the doubts that still lingered in her eyes.

And at last he found them:

“Because I feel butterflies in my stomach.”

Erin’s eyes widened as she stared at him, frozen, speechless. Then, with a stifled cry, she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight, shaking. Jarod returned her embrace and sank his face in the mass of her soft brown hair, now falling free on her shoulders.

“Oh, Jarod, Jarod…” he heard her whisper, almost sobbing, “I love you, too, but I’m afraid, so afraid…”

At last, she had been able to say it! Touched, Jarod stroked her back, gently.

“Yes, I know”, he told her in a low and reassuring voice, “and I understand you. But trust me, honey, and you’ll see that I’ll do everything to make your fear becoming only a bad memory…”

He rocked her back and forth, tenderly, almost like a child. Little by little, Erin stopped trembling and rested quiet in his arms. Then, she pulled back to look again into his eyes.

“I believe you”, she declared softly, and Jarod felt his heart melt: she was willing to give him a chance! It was all he needed… all he asked for.

“Let’s go and sleep”, he said, standing up and helping her to do as much, “It’s been a long day, and you’re exhausted.”

It was true: Erin felt very weary, much more for the power of the contrasting emotions that had torn her apart in the last half-an-hour, than for dancing non-stop two hours. She barely managed a nod, then Jarod lifted her in his arms and headed for their bedroom.

“I can walk…” she protested weakly, but she was glad of his thoughtfulness.

“I like carrying you”, Jarod confessed, laying her on the bed with a smile, “I go and freshen up a bit.”

When he came back, he found her sound asleep, still wrapped in her short bathrobe. He smiled tenderly at her side-turned shape; he closed the curtains, undressed, crept between the sheets and turned off the light, wrapping his arms around Erin, softly so as to not wake her up. She mumbled something, crouching against him, her back to his chest. A few minutes later, Jarod, too, was sound asleep.


	8. Chapter VIII: Allegro Part 2

 

Chapter VIII: Allegro Part 2

 

Sunday, June 30th, 02.20 a.m.

 

Erin was dreaming. Someone – she didn’t see him, but she knew who he was – was biting gently one of her stiffened nipples, while with his hand he was fondling the wet folds between her thighs. Skilled fingers found the hard button of her pleasure and began massaging it delightfully, soon stirring up spasms inside of her that made her moan aloud…

With a start, Erin awakened at the sound of her own voice. Jarod, too, awakened.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” he murmured in a soothing tone, guessing she had had a nightmare, “I’m here with you…”

Erin twisted in his arms; in the darkness, she couldn’t see him, but she didn’t feel the need to turn on the light.

“I was dreaming of you”, she whispered; her voice was so full of longing that Jarod felt a slow shiver of anticipation creep down his back. Then Erin’s hands brushed his chest in a sensual, but hesitant stroke. He encouraged her with an approving grunt, and returned it beginning to caress her back. She pulled back the sheets and placed her lips where a moment earlier her hand had been, pressing a series of kisses on his chest until she found his nipple. Here she lingered, fondling it with her tongue and teeth, while with her fingers she was drawing circles on his abdomen, lower and lower; when she arrived at his boxers, she slid a hand inside of them, gently seizing his manhood, which was already beginning to harden. Feeling her touching him, Jarod uttered a groan of pleasure. He fumbled with the belt of Erin’s bathrobe and opened the garment, sneaking one hand under it to brush the curve of her buttocks. She sighed and closed in, slipping one leg between his and pressing herself on the full length of his side. Against his thigh, Jarod felt the damp warmth of her femininity and the contact aroused him intolerably: he had to resort to all his self-control as to not turn her over on the bed and take her on the spot.

The hand inside his boxers was arousing him merciless and wringed another groan from him. Erin moved and freed him, and then she laid down on him. Now their eyes had gotten used to the dim light seeping through the curtains, as outside the moonlight was shining, and they could see the shape of their bodies.

Erin withdrew from his hold; her mouth ajar, she covered the distance between his chest and the lowest part of his abdomen, darting with her tongue and biting him pleasantly. Meanwhile, she got rid of the bathrobe, throwing it away, carelessly.

Then, Jarod felt Erin’s tongue going through all his length, down to his testicles, and gasped in pleasure.

Smiling secretly by herself, she licked him avidly, _torturing_ him delightfully, as much as she had been doing in her dream. She was so excited that she felt a blaze of heat on the inner part of her thighs; when she realised she could stand it no longer, nor could Jarod, she straddled him. She brushed the head of his manhood with her nether lips, exquisitely tormenting him and herself a few moments longer; then she lifted a little and, helping herself with one hand, she made him slid inside of her.

“Oh, Erin…” Jarod groaned, seizing her hips and raising his pelvis to fill her completely, “My Erin…”

She threw her head backwards, arching her back to change the penetration angle until she found the most satisfying position for both of them; then, she began to move rhythmically, up and down, up keeping only the tip inside of her, then down through all his length until her buttocks touched his scrotum, in a movement that made them both tremble uncontrollably in pleasure.

Jarod almost didn’t dare to move, afraid he would break that sensual rhythm. He raised his hands to cup her breasts, gently pressing the soft flesh and pleasing her nipples with his thumbs. Erin uttered a low and vibrant moan that made his hair stand on end, a moan which intensity grew as pleasure increased. Feeling his orgasm approaching, Jarod voiced a warning sound inviting her to diminish the pace, but Erin didn’t stop; so he seized her hips trying to stay her, but she whispered:

“Let me.”

He surrendered, and a few moments later, his climax swept him away, irresistibly.

“Oooohhhh, Erin…!” he yelled, breathless, gushing inside of her. His contractions sent Erin over the top; her eyes closed, her breath a wheeze, the young woman clawed Jarod’s shoulders in an almost hurting grip and uttered a shrill groan of pleasure that echoed his. Then, overwhelmed, she dropped in his arms, her face against his chest.

Slowly, their breaths calmed down and their heartbeats returned to a normal rate. Erin stretched her legs along Jarod’s and crouched better in the circle of his arms. He stroked her thick hair, removing it from her flushed face and kissing her temple.

“I’m amazed”, he whispered in her ear. She voiced a quizzical sound:

“What do you mean?” she asked. Her sleepy voice made him smile.

“Because every time I make love with you seems better than the one before”, he explained, “How do you manage it?”

She needed a minute to realise she had just received a compliment for her skills as a lover. She widened her eyes, incredulous: she had never thought to be good, in bed. But as a matter of fact, in two weeks she had made with Jarod things that she had never made in ten years with her ex… including waking up in the middle of the night with a mad need to make love, turning and seducing her partner on the spot. With Jarod, she felt wanton and shameless like she had never been… had never believed she could be. The reason was easy to understand: she trusted him. But why then was she still afraid, when she thought about the future of their relationship? She would entrust him with her own life… why couldn’t she entrust him with her happiness? After all, _he_ did it…

With a sigh, she let it be and slipped away from him, by his side.

“I don’t do anything”, she murmured, not knowing what to say, “I try only to show you how much I love you.”

Jarod took her hand to his lips, placing light kisses on each finger.

“Thank you, my love”, he said in a low voice, moved, “I hope I’m showing you the same.”

“You do, Jarod”, she assured him, “You do…”

Softly, they fell asleep like this, holding one another.

 

Sunday, June 30th, 08.15 a.m.

 

The morning after, Jarod woke up in the low light leaking through the closed curtains. With a smile, he looked at Erin sleeping, crouched against him, and he stooped to kiss her hair. Then he got up, being careful not to wake her, and crossed over to the window to look out, upon the spectacular Irish garden, lost in his thoughts.

He was in love with Erin De Rossi. In love as he didn’t know it could be possible to be. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her… but how could he, with the Centre pursuing him continuously? His mind, even if brilliant, whirled restlessly, but couldn’t find a solution.

“Looks like you love the sight.”

Erin’s voice, low and sweet, tore him out of his thoughts. Jarod turned; he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, naked and gorgeous, her long hair falling ruffled on her shoulders and back.

“Much better the sight I’m looking to right now”, he said, winking naughtily.

Erin smiled, and even if she blushed slightly for the frank compliment, she didn’t make a move to cover herself. With Jarod, she felt perfectly at ease even with no clothes on, and this she found unusual because, having never thought to be particularly attractive, she had always been quite modest. It was him, she realized; _he_ made her feel different.

Her gaze moved from his face to his large shoulders, his wide chest covered with the right amount of hair, down to the flat abdomen and the long legs, then it returned back and brazenly stared at his exposed manhood.

Erin realised that she wanted him, and her eyes reflected her desire. Not thinking about it, she wetted her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue, unaware of the erotic power of that gesture.

Jarod shivered in anticipation and realised that being looked at that way by Erin aroused him terribly. His male rod began to harden.

Noticing his reaction, Erin swallowed and felt a great heat gushing from her lap. As Jarod’s manliness progressed upwards, she parted slowly her legs, offering him the exciting view of her throbbing womanhood.

Staring at her rosy cleft, Jarod felt his lungs losing all air, almost like receiving a blow in his belly. With two steps, he covered the distance separating him from Erin, wanting to knee between her legs, but she stopped him grasping his hips, her face at level with his groin, and captured his manhood in her mouth. Jarod uttered a wheezing groan of pleasure as she sucked him avidly; his knees almost failed, and he had to prop on her shoulders to support himself. Erin placed one hand at the base of his shaft and the other on his scrotum; she began massaging him, inflicting him the most pleasant torture he had ever experimented.

Jarod could stand it only for a short time; then he drew back and, wishing to give her the same pleasure, he knelt down and placed his mouth on her female flower. Erin gasped aloud, feeling him making love to her with his tongue; she propped on her arms, pushing forward her pelvis, eagerly. Pleasure raised wave after wave, higher and higher, until she could stand it no more and pleaded:

“Take me, Jarod… take me _now_!”

Jarod raised over her, propping on his arms, and Erin fell slowly backwards. She felt her nether lips parting under the thrust, at the same time firm and gentle, of his male shaft, which one moment later entered completely inside of her. Erin welcomed it with a soft moan.

She was so aroused that a few strokes were enough to make her climax. Jarod saw her arching her back and throwing back her head, a long, heart-breaking moan bursting out of her throat. Her contractions took him in a few seconds to his orgasm, wringing low groans from him.

When the wave of pleasure withdrew, Jarod lowered himself on her and held her, peppering her face with kisses. Erin returned them, trying to calm down the strong sensations, both physical and spiritual, he was always able to stir up in her.

They stayed still for a few minutes, waiting for their hearts to return to a normal rate. Then Jarod told her in a low voice, smirking:

“Do you know you have just satisfied one of my favourite erotic fantasies?”

Erin looked at him astonished:

“What?”

“Yeah”, he confirmed, nodding, “The only difference is that I should have been dressed.”

Now she was amused.

“Ha? And how so?”

“Oh, well…The scenario is: I’m a thief, or maybe a spy, and I enter stealthily by night in her bedroom to search the safe. She wakes up and catches me, but she stays frozen and stares at me. I return her gaze and I realise I want her. She realises that she, too, wants me, so she removes the sheets and sits on the edge of the bed; she’s naked, and slowly she parts her legs to invite me to make love with her. I approach her, she unbuttons my pants… the rest is exactly how it just happened.”

Erin’s mouth had gone dry: the description had stirred up a new wave of desire inside of her.

“Enthralling”, she murmured in a hoarse voice. Jarod perceived her arousal.

“You mean it?” he whispered, lifting one hand to cup one breast, “And… may I ask you what _your_ favourite erotic fantasy would be?”

Erin blushed all over her face: in her whole life, she had told it only to her best friend, Jean, speaking straightforwardly like only women among them do. With her ex-husband, she did never talk about this, somehow afraid he could judge her wrongly. But in an odd way, in spite of the momentary embarrassment, she didn’t hesitate to describe it to Jarod:

“I’m waiting for the elevator in the park lot of a skyscraper. A stranger approaches. We exchange a glance and I’m suddenly on fire. The elevator arrives, people come off; we get in, and I push the button for the last floor. We are alone. He keeps staring at me and I get more and more aroused. He approaches, places his hands on my shoulders, gently, but firmly, and kisses me passionately. I return the kiss. He stops the elevator, pushes me in one corner, lifts my skirt and makes me sit on the handrail, spreading my legs…”

Erin stopped: inside of her, Jarod was swelling up again. Flattered, she looked in his eyes, while a slow smirk curved the corners of her mouth.

“Enthralling…” Jarod breathed, then bent his head and placed his lips on hers. Erin opened her mouth and searched for his tongue with hers, beginning an arousing and sensual game that only sharpened their hunger. They began to make love again, slowly, with no haste. It lasted very long, and when finally they reached the top, they were shaken to the deepest core of their bodies, as well as of their souls.

The sun was very high as they got up and went to shower together. As they came back into the bedroom to get dressed, Erin looked at the bed and thought it was chaotic like a battlefield. She didn’t remember having never messed up a bed like that, and looked at the co-responsible of that fact, who was dressing next to her.

“When you smile that way, you are thinking of something very, very naughty”, Jarod said with a grin. She laughed:

“And you’re right, because I was considering that maybe we should reinforce the bed!”

Jarod turned to look at it.

“Oooops!” he muttered, then he, too, burst into laughter.

It was very late, past eleven o’clock, so they decided to have a _brunch_ , the typical American crossing between breakfast and lunch. They prepared hardboiled eggs, cereals, fruit juice, toasted bread, ham, cheese and coffee, then they sat down under the gazebo and had their brunch with the musical accompaniment of a portable stereo.

They chatted, as it had immediately become their custom, about the most different topics, from the futile to the serious, finding both a correspondence in the other, which not always was perfect, but which often helped to clear up one’s ideas.

Both felt as if they were the luckiest people on Earth.

 

Monday, July 1st, 10.25 a.m.

 

Miss Parker stomped into her brother’s office with her usual ominousness.

 

“You wanted to see me, Lyle?” she asked with such a tone that would froze even an erupting volcano. When Mr. Parker, their father, had literally vanished into thin air a few months ago, after what happened in Scotland, she should have taken his place, but the Triumvirate, thanks to Lyle’s and Raines’ plots, had decided differently.

The handsome, dark-haired man sitting behind the elegant desk pretended not taking any notice of her icy attitude and flashed her a smile, which didn’t reach his eyes:

“Yes, sis, come in.”

Miss Parker hated it when he called her that way. There was nobody on Earth she abhorred as much as she abhorred Lyle. She held the fact he was her twin brother, as she had discovered a few years earlier, a mere genetic accident: she had nothing in common with this execrable being, whose soul was cold and merciless, and devoured by an unlimited ambition.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, impatiently.

“The Triumvirate wishes to know if you have news about Jarod”, Lyle explained.

Miss Parker crossed the room and placed her hands on her brother’s desk.

“None, so far”, she answered, coldly.

“How so?!” Lyle roared, betraying his hidden wrath, “You and those other two loafers didn’t make a single move to find him in over four weeks!”

“We have no clues about where to look for him”, Miss Parker replied, fiercely, “Not even about where to _begin_ to look for him. Maybe we should sift through all the fifty States, ha, Lyle?”

Lyle stayed silent for a moment, forced to recognise that such a hypothesis wasn’t realistic. He moved conciliatorily his hand, wrapped in a glove to hide the lack of the thumb, which the Japanese _yakuza_ had cut off because he wronged them a few years before.

“Okay, then. Are you sure that he had left no clue in his last lair?” he asked then, “Did you overlook anything?”

“We went back there two days ago”, Miss Parker answered, “and we spent hours looking for a trail. The result? _Nothing_.”

Her brother propped his elbows on the desk, frowning.

“It’s really odd, I think”, he commented. Miss Parker nodded:

“It is, indeed. But it’s even odder that he never contacted Sydney since. He’s simply vanished in the middle of nothing.”

Lyle uttered a hiss like a snake, angry again.

“It’s ridiculous!” he growled, “Since his escape, it’s never happened! You and those two losers, have you perhaps decided to give up?”

“ _You_ are ridiculous, Lyle!” Miss Parker countered, her eyes flashing in rage, “I never give up, and if you imply anything like this again, I’ll place a bullet between those snake eyes of yours!”

This wasn’t the first time she threatened him this way, and Lyle knew she hated him enough to end up doing it for good, if he pushed her too hard. Therefore, once again he withdrew:

“Very well, then. But I demand that you and your team go back again to Jarod’s last lair and delve into everything until you find any evidence, have I made myself clear?”

She glared at him.

“You can demand whatever you want, Lyle, but if there’s no evidence, we cannot create it, neither me, nor Sydney, nor Broots. For the time being, we can only wait for Jarod betraying his presence somewhere and hurry there as soon as we receive the news.”

If gazes could kill, the one that Miss Parker and Lyle exchanged would have turned both to ashes.

“That’s all for now: you can go”, Lyle said. She spun around on her heels and, marching as usual, she left the room, not even caring to say goodbye.

 

Tuesday, July 2nd, 07.55 p.m.

 

That same evening, Erin’s phone rang.

“De Rossi”, she answered.

“Hi, darlin’, it’s mom”, she heard a voice on the other end of the connection, “I wanted only to know if you are to arrive tomorrow evening or on Thursday morning.”

Erin blinked two times, before remembering what her mother was referring to: Thursday it was July 4th, and every year she spent a few days with her family. No way she could miss it, also because two days later it was her father Frank’s 65th birthday.

“Can I…um… take someone with me, in case?” she asked.

“But sure, my dear, your friends are ours!” Maureen De Rossi cried, confirming the famous Irish hospitality, then she paused, “Wait a moment, your tone is tellin’ me something… is it a man?”

Erin smiled at the phone: she really couldn’t keep anything from her mother.

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend… great! I can’t wait to meet him. What’s his name?”

“Jarod. But before I must ask him if he wants to come… You know, we’ve been together for just two weeks…”

“I understand, he could think it’s a little too soon to meet the whole family… Listen, let me know, okay?”

“Thank you. Bye, mom.”

“Bye, my little _sidhe_ (pron. _shee_ )”, Maureen said goodbye to her, using the nickname, meaning _fairy_ in Gaelic, which she had given her as a child. Erin placed back the receiver, smiling, and returned to the drawing room, where she was watching a documentary on TV with Jarod.

“It was my mother”, she began, sitting next to him, “My family always comes together on July 4th, also because of my father’s birthday on the 6th. Saturday he’ll turn 65. Would you like to come with me? But don’t consider it an obligation”, she added quickly. Jarod realised she didn’t want to force him, she never would, and smiled to reassure her:

“If your family is fantastic like you are, I’ll be glad to come”, he answered. Erin smiled back at him:

“Yes, I think you’ll like them…”

She then named all the members of her family: the patriarch, Giovanni De Rossi, her grandfather who had arrived from Italy in the second half of the Thirties with his young wife Francesca, to try their luck; Frank, Erin’s father and their only son; Maureen, his wife and Erin’s mother, born O’Leary and coming from Connemara County in Western Ireland, emigrated as a child with her family at the beginning of the Fifties; Sean, Erin’s elder brother, who for a few years now was managing the winemaker enterprise his grandfather had founded; his wife Dolores and their children Christopher and Carmen.

Jarod envied Erin; from the way she spoke about them, he guessed it was a close and loving family, which members supported each other unreservedly, helping one another in need, but each keeping his own independency. He never had known this kind of relationship, and he felt deeply its lack.

Erin glimpsed the sadness re-emerging in his eyes; in the time they had spent together, she had seen it less and less, and she had been happy about that, but now she sensed the reason of it: someone must have taken away his family from him, that was why he never spoke about them, and a burning hate blazed inside of her, against whoever had done this to him. Should they ring at her doorbell now, in that very moment, she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot them, for all the pain they had caused him, for the life they had robbed him…

Meanwhile, she would do what she could to cancel the sadness from Jarod’s gaze.

“I’ll be right back”, she said, standing up; she went to the bedroom, where she rummaged through the drawer where she kept her underwear. She found almost immediately what she was looking for and changed swiftly.

A few minutes later, she was back, and Jarod noticed that she was now wearing patent leather shoes with stiletto heels. While he was wondering about the reason, Erin reached for the remote and turned TV off. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him and made him lay down on the sofa, laying then on top of him. She cupped his cheeks and placed her mouth on his, kissing him softly; then she made him part his lips for a deeper kiss, making her desire for him clear.

Jarod stroked her back, slowly; he perceived that she meant to give him the comfort he needed, without even asking him the reason he needed it for, and he felt deeply moved and grateful. He thought that it should be exactly this way, between a man and a woman: giving support and comfort one another, all life long, _through weakness and strength, happiness and sorrow, for better, for worse_ …

Erin drew back and stood up, taking his hand to make him stand up inturn. Then, she took two steps backwards and moved aside the coffee table, clearing a space between it and the couch. Jarod looked at her in confusion, but the moment after he understood: slowly, Erin began to undress in front of him, staring at him, a seductive expression on her lovely face.

As first thing, she undid the knot closing her violet blouse, then she turned and let the garment slide down her arms, until it fell to the floor. When she turned again, Jarod saw that she was wearing a dark-red silky bra, and as a few moments later her skirt fell on the floor next to the blouse, he found that her panties matched it. She was wearing also a tulle garter belt of the same colour, to which clung very thin stockings of transparent silk, with a high dark-red lace border.

She was gorgeous as a goddess, Jarod thought, his throat dry, looking at her. And she was breathtakingly sexy.

Erin saw his gaze dimming with yearning and felt encouraged. Never in her whole life had she performed a strip tease, therefore she had started it unsure about the effect it would have, but Jarod was literally devouring her with his gaze in an unmistakable way.

She made a slow pirouette to let him see all of her, and Jarod held his breath as he noticed that her panties actually were a thong that left her beautiful buttocks bare. Then, Erin turned again to him, brought an arm behind her and unhooked her bra; keeping it in place with one hand, she slipped her arm out of one strap, then repeated the movement on the other side, and finally she dropped the garment.

Jarod couldn’t resist and reached for her, but she pulled back smiling mischievously and invited him to stay where he was. Again she turned, hooked the sides of the thong with her thumbs and began to lower it over her hips, pulling this side and that; Jarod realised she was wearing it correctly over the garter belt. Once more Erin turned to face Jarod, and now she quickly squatted, pulling the tiny garment to her ankles; then she stood up again, and with two swift movements she took if off.

Now she had nothing on but stockings, garter belt and shoes, and staring at her, Jarod swallowed hard.

He felt like… screaming.

But the best had still to come.

Erin approached him and unbuttoned his shirt, opening it on his chest. Again, he tried to wrap his arms around her and she admonished him not to move, curling her lips and shaking her head. She stooped and sucked one of his nipples in her mouth, tickling it with teeth and tongue; Jarod groaned, as his hardened manhood pulsed painfully inside the constriction of his jeans. He dropped his shirt on the floor.

Erin went down on one knee and unfastened his belt, then opened his fly. Slowly, she lowered his pants, than repeated with his briefs. She grasped his shaft at the base, with gentle firmness, and began to caress it. A few moments later, she stooped and licked him slowly from the base to the top, wringing a series of irregular wheezing pants from him.

Jarod was about to lose his head: it was the dream of every man, a gorgeous half-naked woman kneeling in front of him with his manhood in her mouth...

Not able to restrain himself, he uttered another groan; Erin realised that he could stand no more and moved back, looking at him with an equally hungry gaze. Jarod moved to stoop over her, but she slipped away and turned her back to him, falling on all fours, her legs slightly parted, then turned her head, her long hair falling down on one side like a curtain, and flashed him an inviting glance.

Jarod nearly choked: this was a view that would arouse a dead man.

Staring at the beautiful roundness of her bottom, Jarod knelt behind Erin.

“Please... be gentle”, she whispered. She had never liked this position, but she was aware that men are crazy for it and had decided to try it for Jarod.

Jarod guessed all this from her tone, and felt his heart swell with love.

He touched her from behind, caressing with his fingers the warm cleft between her thighs and brushing her clit. Erin shivered in pleasure and opened her legs wider to give him better access. Jarod went on touching her, tormenting her delightfully to bring her on the topmost of arousal. Gently, he inserted first one finger, then another, to get her used to the sensation, and as he felt a gush of damp warmth hitting his hand, he realised she was ready. He positioned himself against her soft female opening and pushed, carefully, because he wanted her to feel no pain, but only pleasure.

Erin uttered a surprised gasp: penetration from behind had always been unpleasant, for her, but not with Jarod... quite the opposite.

Jarod bent down on her until his chest touched her back, propping on one hand and using the other to caress her dangling breasts. Slowly, he began to move inside of her, at first with small strokes, slowly increasing the width as he felt her ready. It was difficult to keep self-control, because this position aroused him in an unbearable way, threatening to send him into orbit, but for Erin’s sake, he focussed and held on, wanting to bring her with him to the top of pleasure.

It was easier than he had anticipated: aroused by Jarod’s skilful fingers, stroking in turn her nipples and her clit, Erin felt a pleasure coming she hadn’t expected and on which, given the disappointing previous experiences, she had absolutely not counted. An incandescent orgasm exploded in her deeps, wringing an astonished scream from her, which Jarod joined while bursting inside of her in an irresistible turmoil of pleasure.

As the wave of climax slowly withdrew, they stayed a few moments nearly without breathing, heated, trembling, almost beside themselves for the ecstasy they had just felt, an ecstasy that was of both body and soul, like it can be when you don’t have just sex, but make love.

Erin couldn’t believe how much pleasure she had just felt; not its intensity, even if it had been one of the highest she had ever felt, but the way she had achieved it, through a position that for her had always been mostly an annoyance. Tears filled her eyes: Jarod was the most wonderful man, the most caring and generous lover she could wish, her perfect partner... her soulmate.

She felt sorry when he slid out of her body, but she was immediately compensated because Jarod laid down on the carpet and wrapped his arms around her, making her place her head on his chest, her long hair spreading like a veil over his shoulder; he clasped her gently and kissed her temple:

“You are superb”, he whispered to her, “I really don’t know what I could possibly have done to deserve you...”

She stirred, raising her head and looking at him lovingly:

“I wonder what _I_ have done to deserve _you_ ”, she whispered, “But whatever the reason, I thank God every day to have put you on my path.”

His eyes glossy with moved tears, Jarod made her place her head back on his chest and held her tight.

“Same here”, he whispered, “Same here.”

In Erin’s mind peeped an unwelcomed sense of guilty. True, she loved Jarod with her all, in the way she had hoped so much to be able to love once more... In spite of her fear, in spite of the risk... Why then did she keep on feeling this cold icy core in the depths of her heart?


	9. Chapter IX: Allegro Appassionato Part 1

 

Chapter IX: Allegro Appassionato Part 1

 

Thursday, July 4th, 09.00 a.m.

 

Jarod and Erin started on Thursday morning, heading for Frank and Maureen De Rossi’s ranch, where they arrived about half-an-hour later. The weather was fine and there was a sweet scent in the air as they covered the last miles of the private street that, from the state road, led to the house; all around, as far as the eye could see, there were vineyards and pastures.

Spotting the large house, Jarod didn’t hide his appreciation:

“It’s amazing!” he cried, “And _big_ : how many rooms are there?”

“Counting the lodgings for the servants, 26 rooms”, Erin explained, “Besides, there are the independent guest houses, which accommodate up to twelve people.”

 

On Erin’s advice, Jarod parked his Corvette under a massive wooden carport sheltering a number of other cars; in the meantime, a woman with short hair of a warm titian red had appeared on the threshold, simply dressed in jeans and cotton shirt. She approached them smiling and Erin, getting out of the car, ran to her, hugging her.

“Erin, sweetie!” the woman cried; she hardly looked in her early fifties, but she was about ten years older, “I am so happy to have you here!” she turned and watched Jarod in appreciation while he was walking towards them, “And in good company, I see!”

Erin introduced them smiling:

“Mom, this is Jarod O’Donnell. Jarod, my mother Maureen.”

Maureen shook hands with him:

“Irish! _Céad mila failta_.”

Jarod put on an embarassed look:

“I’m sorry, Mrs De Rossi, but I don’t speak Gaelic.”

Maureen’s smile didn’t fade, on the opposite, it even widened:

“ _Thousand times welcome_ , Mr O’Donnell”, she translated.

“Thank you”, he answered, grinning at her and deciding he liked her, “But please, call me Jarod.”

“And I’m Maureen”, she said, taking him and her daughter by the arm, “Come in, the rest of the clan wants to meet you.”

On the doorway, the butler, impeccably dressed in a dark suit, was waiting for them.

“Carl, this is Mr O’Donnell, my daughter’s guest. Please, take care of their baggage”, Maureen ordered him graciously. The butler nodded, then he bowed to the newly arrived couple:

“Welcome home, Miss Erin. Welcome, sir.”

A little uncomfortable because he wasn’t used to such deference, Jarod gave him only a friendly nod, but Erin answered easily:

“Thank you, Carl. How’s your family?”

“They’re fine, thank you. Jasmine finally chose the wedding day: September 15th.”

“Good! Remind her that I promised her wedding gown as a present.”

“I’ll do it, Miss Erin. Thank you.”

Maureen took them to the elegant drawing room, where a very old woman was sitting in a chair, her short hair white like snow; she was reading a book, but hearing them arrive, she lifted her glance and smiled, recognising Erin:

“Erin, _cuore della nonna_ (grandma’s heart)!” she cried in Italian, standing up and approaching them, arms wide open, “ _Come stai_ (How are you)?”

“ _Benissimo, nonna_ (I’m great, grandma)”, Erin answered in the same language, hugging her, “May I introduce to you Jarod O’Donnell? Jarod, this is my grandmother Francesca.”

Jarod took the old matriarch’s hand and kissed it gallantly:

“Nice to meet you, madam.”

“My pleasure, young man”, Francesca assured him, “Erin, you’ve got good tastes, indeed!”

Erin laughed:

“Grandma, don’t embarrass him!”

“Oh, at my age I can say it openly, when I appreciate a nice guy!” the elderly lady snorted, winking at Jarod, “Don’t you agree, Mr. O’Donnell?”

“Jarod”, he corrected her, as he preferred using as less as possible the fake names he chose, “I agree, but something tells me you have always spoken your mind freely, even when you were young.”

Francesca burst into laughter:

“You’re right, _caro mio_ (my dear)! I’ve always been very forthright!”

At that moment, an elderly man entered the room, followed by a younger one; the resemblance between them was incredible, and Jarod realised he was looking at Giovanni, the patriarch of the De Rossi family, and his son Frank. Both men hugged Erin lovingly and greeted warmly Jarod, who was beginning to feel a little stunned from all these meetings; but it wasn’t over yet, because a few minutes later, they were joined by Erin’s brother, Sean, with his wife Dolores and their children Christopher and Carmen. Sean, a man of about Jarod’s age, very big and sporting a tawny mane like his mother’s, lifted his sister and flung her around, booming that he hadn’t seen her for a far too long time. Dolores, a pretty Hispanic woman a couple of years older than Erin, greeted affectionately her sister-in-law, and so did her nephew and niece. The four of them welcomed Jarod warmly, making him feel immediately accepted.

Later, he and Erin headed for their lodge to unpack, taking momentarily leave; going outside, Erin led Jarod through the large courtyard behind the main building to a smaller edifice, which he descovered being a completely autonomous lodge, completely equipped. Unlike the drawing room where they had been welcomed, which had an important and valuable forniture, this accommodation was simple and homey.

As he entered the bathroom, tiled with mosaics inspired on the Greek-Roman art, Jarod stared amazed at the bathtub: it was round, embedded in the floor like a swimming pool and large enough to comfortably host two people. Hearing his bewildered cry, Erin joined him.

“Do you like it?” she asked, somewhat hesitant, “I got it installed last year because I wanted a hydro-massage here, like at home...”

“It’s... _sybaritic_ ”, Jarod answered, turning to face her with a naughty gleam in his eyes, “Let’s try it out.”

“Giving my family a shock?” Erin laughed, “Why not? Both my mother and my grandmother would approve...”

Jarod took a step towards Erin to wrap his arms around her, but at that very moment someone knocked at the door of their lodging. Both made a wry face, then looked at each other laughing, recognising the same disappointment in one another’s face, like in a mirror.

“Who’s there?” Erin asked.

“It’s Chris, Aunt Erin”, a childish voice replied, “I’d like you to see something.”

Erin crossed over to the door and opened it; the boy entered carrying a big tome, which looked quite old, and showed it proudly to his aunt.

“I found the O’Donnell’s coat-of-arms”, he announced in a triumphant tone. Jarod looked at Erin rather confused, and she explained:

“Our Chris here is fond of genealogy and heraldry. He went back on the family tree both on the De Rossi side and the O’Leary’s, up to the great-great-grandparents of my grannies, and he sorted out also the family trees of the royalties of France, Austria and England.”

“Yeah”, Christopher confirmed proudly, “and in this book you can find the coats-of-arms of all the prominent families of Ireland. Jarod, did you know that the O’Donnells were Earls of Donegal?”

“Aehm... as a matter of fact, I don’t even know what Donegal is”, Jarod admitted.

“It’s a region in the north-west of Ireland”, Christopher explained, opening the big book and leafing through it till he found a map of the Emmerald Island, “See, here it is”, he pointed it out.

Jarod took care to look very impressed:

“And do you think I might descend from these Earls?”

“To verify it, we should go back on your family tree to the time of the last Earl of Donegal, which isn’t easy, but in any case you belong to that clan because you bear its name...”

As Christopher resumed leafing through his big tome, for the first time in his life Jarod felt like an impostor. Being a Pretender, he had always dropped in a role very easily: navy officer, coroner, ranger, plumber, fireman, FBI agent, university researcher, policeman, doctor... But now he was fooling a boy, and with him a whole family that had welcomed him very warmly.

“Here you are: the O’Donnell’s coat-of-arms”, Chris announced, showing him eventually the painting of a red cross in yellow field, held by a hand, “And this is the O’Leary’s”, he turned a few pages and showed him a white shield, with a blue ship in the upper half and a red lion in the lower.

“Incredible”, Jarod murmured, truly interested, “The O’Learys were Earls, too?”

“Not always the chief of a clan had a peerage, but was respected anyway”, Christopher answered, “Also the O’Leary.”

Erin had followed the conversation between them with a smirk, but sensing Jarod’s uneasiness, she decided to dismiss dismiss her little nephew.

“Thanks for the information, Chris”, she said gently, “but now we should finish unpacking. We’ll see you later, so you can give us more details about the O’Donnells.”

“Okay”, the boy immediately accepted, beaming because of the interest he was guessing in the adults, “See you later!”

When Christopher left, Jarod sighed:

“Your family is so nice to me... I really don’t know how to repay them.”

“Just be yourself”, Erin suggested, choosing once more to ask no questions, “Above all, they appreciate spontaneity, as much as I do.”

Jarod smiled at her gratefully:

“You are both wise and beautiful, _mi querida_ (my dear).”

Later, after they had finished unpacking, Erin took Jarod to visit the main house: next to the drawing room, there was a large dining room, easily transformable into a ballroom, and a formidable library; there was also a noticeable collection of videos and DVDs, with a huge TV receiver. There were mostly westerns and thrillers, but also science fiction, action and romantic movies, as well as documentaries about the most different topics, from astronomy to nature.

“My mother’s fond of these”, Erin explained, pointing to the westerns, “John Wayne is her hero. These instead are my father’s favourites”, she went on, pointing to the thrillers, “According to him, Callaghan is the best.”

Jarod looked out of the window and glimpsed a black horse trotting in a paddock, a couple of hundred yards away from the house. Erin followed his glance and smirked:

“That’s Black Thunder, my brother’s stallion. We all like riding, except granny Francesca who is terribly afraid of horses”, her smile widened, “I wonder how my mare is, Tara.”

“We can go and check”, Jarod suggested, “Besides, I’d like to take a ride.”

“You ride?”

Jarod had never tried, but he was a Pretender. How he could do something he never did before, not even Sydney had ever been able to explain. It was a natural gift, a genetic predisposition. He had a photographic memory and great mimic skills, though he couldn’t believe there was nothing more. Furthermore, the talent had to be spotted at a very young age and carefully trained.

“Not much”, he answered, “Besides, it’s been a long time since I have.”

“Okay”, Erin smiled, because she really wished to take a ride, “After lunch we’ll ask Peter, the stable master, to find a docile horse for you.”

For lunch, they had Irish treats, tasty but light, which Maureen had personally cooked. On the evening, there would be a rich outdoor buffet, prepared by a catering enterprise, so it wasn’t a good idea eating too much during the midday meal.

As they finished their lunch, the children were allowed to go out and play in the garden, while the adults headed for the drawing room for coffee and spirits. Jarod tried _grappa_ , a typical liqueur from Northern Italy that Giovanni De Rossi’s firm produced in a small quantity, and appreciated it much, even if he refused a second glass explaining he wasn’t used to spirits.

About one hour later, Jarod and Erin headed for the low and long construction where the horses were sheltered, and a black man, jovial and plump, greeted them jovially; Erin introduced him to Jarod as the stable master, Peter.

“You’d like to ride Tara, I suppose?” Peter asked, flashing a big smile to Erin.

“Yes, but I’ll saddle her personally”, the young woman said, returning his smile, “And I’d have Silver Flower for Mr. O’Donnell.”

“I’ll go get them”, Peter said, moving away. Erin explained to Jarod:

“I chose for you a very quiet gelding. If it’s been a long time, I don’t want to give you a wayward horse that could unsaddle you just for meanness.”

“You’re right, you’ll never know”, Jarod agreed.

While they waited, they picked up the saddles from the storeroom, where they found also boots of Jarod’s measure, while Erin put on hers; then, they prepared their horses. Jarod watched Erin and copied her doings perfectly, and finally Silver Flower, a nice drappled grey, was ready at the same time as Tara, a wonderful dark red mare with black tail and mane.

They mounted; always watching Erin closely, Jarod was able to direct his horse as if he had been doing it his entire life... except for one detail.

“Relax your shoulders”, Erin advised him, “If you won’t, tonight they’ll hurt.”

He followed her recommendation immediately and Erin smirked, shaking her head:

“You said you were not much, as a rider, but I see you manage it very well.”

Maybe for the first time in his life, Jarod felt actually _proud_ of his talent; not even Sydney had ever made him feel like this, treating his particular skill very matter-of-factly.

They spent the rest of the afternoon riding around, trotting or galloping over pastures, woods, meadows and streams; when they came to a small mere, they dismounted and took a walk, breathing in the scents of the sunny country.

They returned in time to get ready for the party, where all the workers and the servants of the ranch had been invited to; for this reason, the De Rossis had chosen the buffet solution: the only one who would have to work on this evening was the deejay, whom the hosts had hired for the dancing.

For the occasion, Erin wore the white eyelet dress she had purchased in Mexico six weeks ago, sporting a wide skirt long almost down to her ankles; the tight stringed bodice left her shoulders bare, and a red sash hugged her waist. She gathered her hair in a simple high ponytail and decorated it with a great white daisy. It was a romantic as well as sexy outfit and when he saw her, for the umpteenth time Jarod felt charmed by her beauty.

But he, too, looked very attractive, in his light cotton shirt of an unusual ice-blue, open at the neck, and tight pearl-grey pants. The hot glance Erin flashed him would have melt down an iceberg.

The hosts welcomed their guests on the threshold, inviting them to go to the garden and help themselves with food and drinks. They could have sandwiches and open sandwiches with different stuffs, pizza in several varieties, vegetable pies, potato-salad, little rice treats, cheese, sliced ham and salami, and fruit jellies, fruit salad, tarts, ice-cream, cakes; to drink, there were fruit-juices, wine, beer, cider, soft drinks and water. One had only to pick up his favourite.

In one corner of the large garden stood a low platform: the dance floor, with coloured beams lighting it and big loudspeakers all around; nearby was the deejay, who played great music, both disco and country. Everybody danced, from the children to the senior people, among them Giovanni and Francesca.

The party was great and easy, and Jarod had much fun.

At eleven o’clock, the lights went off and the deejay turned the music down to a background level. It was the arranged signal for fireworks, which Frank had choreographed personally. In the bright and starry night sky blossomed golden rains, silvery willows, rings and globes of sparkling colours, accompanied by more or less noisy sound effects. Several times, the crowd uttered an astonished _ooohh!_ , and at last Frank earned a big ovation.

After that, the music resumed, and people danced until almost two o’clock in the night, when the guests began to take their leave, a few at a time. Erin and Jarod, too, bid goodnight to friends and relatives, and headed for their lodge to sleep.


	10. Chapter X: Allegro Appassionato Part 2

 

Chapter X: Allegro Appassionato Part 2

 

Friday, July 5th, 09.25 a.m.

 

Jarod awakened around midmorning; while sleeping, Erin had turned and was now laying on her side, her back against his chest. The sheet had partially slid away, and Jarod noticed that her nightgown, of impalpable lilac silk, had slipped upwards uncovering her hip, and he could see that under it she wore matching panties.

He lifted his head to gaze at her: her relaxed face, with the long eyelashes shading her healthy coloured and tanned cheeks; her beautiful lips, slightly parted as for a kiss; her long brown hair, scattered all over the pillow; her chest moving slowly up and down at the rhythm of her breathing.

A wave of tenderness and love overwhelmed him. He placed one hand on her shoulder and stroked it gently, starting from the base of her neck, following the curve of her collarbone and creeping down her arm, which was resting on her belly. Here, he moved his hand on her hip, down her thigh and almost to her knee, and then slid back, coming up to brush her derrière. He felt aroused – good heavens, he had never enough of her! – and considered stopping, but Erin heaved a loving sigh and opened her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up”, he whispered in her ear, “but you’re so desirable that I couldn’t stop my hands.”

She grinned and looked askance at him, then she reached behind her, placing one hand on his buttocks and pulling him nearer. Feeling the evidence of his yearning against her bottom, she commented in a low, amused voice:

“And not only your hands.”

“I can’t help it, if you’ve charmed me”, he declared, bending to kiss her earlobe and lingering there to nibble at it. Erin lifted one hand to brush his temple; Jarod turned his head and seized her ring finger with his lips, tickling gently the tip with his tongue. Feeling her shuddering, he realized he had found another particularly sensitive spot, so he insisted; he cupped one of her breasts, and through the silk of her nightgown he felt her nipple already stiffening. Flattered, he brushed it with his fingertips.

“You’re the one who charmed me”, Erin exhaled, feeling desire stirring up swiftly inside of her: she had never realised she was a lustful woman, but now the longing for Jarod caught her in the most unlikely moments, and only her strict self-discipline had prevented her, since they were together, from being too much distracted.

Starting to place a trail of small kisses on the side of her neck, Jarod moved his hand downwards, slipping under her nightgown; he brushed her tummy with a languid caress; he lingered one moment with the tip of his forefinger on her belly button, touching it gently, and then went on downwards. His fingers slid under the silk of her panties, reaching the soft triangle of hair that covered her crotch.

At his arousing touch, Erin moaned in pleasure and parted her legs, pushing one thigh backwards upon his. Kissing the nape of her neck, Jarod brushed her clit, beginning to massage it exquisitely with two fingers. Erin shivered, inhaling abruptly; she felt like drowning in a lake of delightfulness, and a blaze of damp warmth burned her depths. She moaned again, louder.

Jarod began pulling down her panties; Erin helped him, wanton like only he could make her, and then with a twist she slipped her arms out of the spaghetti-strings of her nightgown, pushing it down to her waist.

With one hand he cupped again her now exposed breast, and tickled its nipple, hard and sensitive, with the tips of thumb and forefinger; Erin sighed and pushed one hand backwards, closing it around his erected shaft and making him gasp in pleasure as she stroked it all the way from base to tip.

“Oh, Jarod, please...” Erin muttered, longing too much for him to stand it any longer, “Take me, take me...”

Jarod didn’t smile at her greed, because it was the same he was feeling. He lowered behind her, parted lovingly her nether lips with his fingers to ease the entering, and penetrated her slowly. Erin arched her back to help him, relishing inch by inch the sensation of him sliding inside of her.

They began to move together, at first at a swift rhythm, because of the intense desire they were feeling for one another; then, with no need of words, they slowed down, both wishing to make it last as long as possible. It was a very pleasant and relaxing way to make love; they went on for a long time, and finally they reached softly the top of a deep and prolonged pleasure.

Jarod held Erin in position, waiting for their heartbeat to return to normal rate. With a small secret smile, he told her in a low voice:

“And you said you aren’t very good in bed! You drive me crazy every time... Did you learn it from the goddess of love herself?”

Erin blushed all over, and her embarrassment delighted and moved Jarod. Perhaps it was exactly this strange way she had to be at the same time shy and brazen, modest and bold, girl and woman, that made her so desirable in his eyes...

He turned her to him and peppered her face with kisses.

 

OOO

 

The sun was quite high when they showed up for breakfast. They found a complete Irish breakfast, with fried eggs, bacon and grilled sausages, besides toasted bread, salty butter and orange jam, slightly bitter, and cereals, milk and coffee. Jarod and Erin wolfed everything down, and Maureen hardly hid her hilarity, as she guessed perfectly the reason of their appetite. Erin noticed her mother’s amusement and winked at her: she had with her, and with her grandmother, a very frank way to treat sex, so she didn’t feel uneasy with her.

The others had already had their breakfast, except for Sean and Dolores, who joined them a few minutes later.

“Now we need a walk to digest this breakfast!” Sean stated as they finished, laughing, “Hey, you two, care to join Dolores and me?”

Jarod and Erin accepted gladly, so the two couples went outside to the garden and strode aimlessly among the blooming flowerbeds. After a while, Jarod noticed that Sean, wanting plainly to speak with him privately, had arranged things so that Erin and Dolores were now at some distance from them. Jarod intentionally slowed down his pace: whatever Erin’s brother had to tell him, he was willing to listen.

“I’m sure you’re in love with my sister”, Sean began, speaking bluntly and looking at him straight in the eye with a very stern expression, “I see the way you look at her, and the way you treat her. Therefore, I won’t waste time discussing your feelings for her. But I want to warn you, from one man to another: her ex-husband, too, seemed much in love with her, yet he left her without a word, a justification. When it happened, Erin prevented me to go and beat him to pulp, as I wanted to do, but know this: if ever you should hurt her as he did, this time no one on Earth will stop me. Have I made myself clear?”

Jarod returned his gaze firmly. Somehow, he had expected this speech from one of the De Rossi men, because he knew they loved Erin with the same sincerity he did, and that it was Sean the one facing him rather than Frank or Giovanni wasn’t important.

He stopped in his tracks and inhaled deeply before answering:

“You’re not the first who warns me, Sean. This confirms what I already know: that Erin deserves the greatest devotion. And this is the way I love her: devotedly. She has not required from me any commitment, any oath, because her ex broke the most solemn of all oaths she could receive and she’s not willing to have another one. Therefore, if you accept it, I will take an oath before you: I swear that everything I’ll do, I’ll do it for her, to make her happy, to protect her from every evil, and where she’ll be, there I, too, will be, all my life long, if she wants me. If I don’t keep this oath, I allow you not only to beat me to pulp, but to break each and every bone in my body in addition.”

Sean blinked, caught by surprise: he had liked Jarod at once, but he hadn’t expected such a strong reaction to his warning. He realised he had to do with a man whose heart was generous and good, and whom he could trust completely.

He extended his hand:

“I accept your oath, Jarod.”

Jarod shook his hand, solemnly: it was an agreement between two gentlemen, an agreement that none of them would break voluntarily.

 

OOO

 

Because they had had their breakfast very late, for lunch the two younger couples decided to have just a sandwich.

“With this sun”, Dolores said, “I think I’ll spend the afternoon at the swimming-pool. Erin, care to join me?”

“Sure!”, she accepted, “Jarod, Sean, if you have other plans…”

“And lose the opportunity to look at two beautiful women in bikini?” Sean joked, wrapping his arms around his wife, “The children are on a ride with their grannies, so we are free to play young fiancés…” he added, kissing her, “What about you, Jarod?”

“I’m in”, Jarod answered grinning.

They changed their clothes and, a little later, they met again on the sundeck. The pool was very large, shaped like a bean, partially shaded by a few planes and alders; on the less deep part, a big semi-circular stair led into the water, and next to it stood a Jacuzzi; a small springboard loomed over the deeper part of the pool, and they took turns to dive from it with great fun. Erin and Sean had taken swimming classes when living in Munich with their parents, and Jarod was impressed seeing their almost identical style.

Later, they lay under the beach-umbrellas, waiting for the sun to fade a little bit. Jarod looked at Erin in appreciation: she was wearing a fluorescent green bikini showing up her tanned complexion, confirming her love for bright colours. She returned his gaze: he, too, in his black-and-yellow swimsuit, was very good-looking.

“I have something for you”, Erin said, grasping something under her deck chair. She handed Jarod a few bunches of sheets bound with a plastic clip; he looked at her quizzically.

“The first five chapters of my book”, she explained, a bit nervous, “if you like them, I’ll give you also the rest to read.”

Jarod felt his heart swelling: this was another step for Erin on the way of trusting him.

“Thank you, _tesoro mio_ (darling)”, he told her, using the Italian expression he had heard Giovanni addressing to Francesca. Erin showed appreciation flashing him that smile of hers that always turned his knees to jelly.

Jarod was soon engrossed in reading and got fond of the novel since the first lines. The story was set in an imaginary world, which she depicted in a picturesque and very plausible way; the main character was a woman with exceptional skills as a warrior and a healer, a contradiction that made her extremely interesting. Soon, Jarod realised that there was much of Erin in her, and he understood her hesitance to allow anyone reading it: it was like revealing all of her soul, her dreams and wishes. But it was exactly this making the characters look alive, real, complete, not flat and banal.

He devoured the first chapters in a flash, but he refrained discreetly from making comments in front of Erin’s brother and sister-in-law.

“I like it very much”, he said her privately, “and if you don’t make me read the rest, I swear I’ll go crazy!”

She blushed, very pleased.

“I didn’t expect you reading so quickly”, she commented then, “You’ll have to wait until our return home.”

Jarod placed one hand over his heart:

“I don’t know if I’ll stand it that long!”

Erin laughed at his witticism and brushed his lips with a kiss. As she pulled back, she thought better of it and kissed him again, more passionately. Jarod returned her kiss.

“Oh, well, if you put it this way, I can wait”, he muttered.

 

OOO

 

That peaceful day came to an and, in the evening, everybody got together again for dinner. Looking out through the window, Erin commented:

“Weather’s very bright: tonight we’ll have a wonderful starry sky, almost moonless, perfect for astronomy observation.”

Jarod, too, liked watching the night sky, but before his escape from the Centre he had had very few occasions to do so, and later only very rarely he had had the time to. In theory, he knew all the constellations, but practically he couldn’t even recognize them. Therefore, now he smiled at Erin:

“I’d like to watch the stars with you”, he told her softly. She returned his smile and nodded.

After dinner, the adults made some small talk; when darkness outside was complete, Erin and Jarod bid goodnight and took leave. As they arrived to their lodge, Erin removed a big case from the bottom of a locked closet in the hall, then she led Jarod up a narrow stair to the roof and a quite large square terrace.

“They built this for me”, she told him, “My passion for astronomy goes back to primary school, but making a profession of it never attracted me: too technical.”

She opened the case and took a red-light electric torch.

“I can’t assemble the telescope in complete darkness”, she explained to Jarod, who was looking at her quizzically, “The red light avoids affecting the night vision.”

Assembling the tool requested only a few minutes, then Erin pointed the telescope toward a specific object. She looked through the viewfinder, then satisfied she lifted her eyes to the sky and pointed out a constellation to Jarod:

“Do you see that group of bright stars, looking like a ladle?”

Jarod looked and nodded:

“The Great Bear, isn’t it?”

“Right. The name of the central star of the _stick_ is a triple star called Mizar. But you’ll see only two stars, because my telescope isn’t powerful enough to distinguish the third one, which is very small.”

With a nod, she invited Jarod to look through the viewfinder, and he promptly obeyed.

“Hey, it’s fantastic!” he cried, enthusiastic, “I have seen a lot of pictures, but looking at the stars with your own eyes is completely different!”

Erin smiled:

“I’ve always thought so”, she declared. Jarod straightened his back again and resumed looking at the sky with bare eye.

“I don’t know which one is the Pole-Star”, he confessed.

“It’s not a very interesting star to watch”, Erin said, “Look at the last two stars of the Great Bear’s quadrilateral, trace an imaginary line that goes straight on… there, do you see that small star?”

“It’s _that one?_ ” Jarod asked, amazed, not hiding his incredulity.

“It seems impossible, isn’t it?” Erin agreed, amused, “Such an insignificant star, but with such a fundamental role in our history. To make just one example, without it Christopher Colombo would never have discovered America.”

“Yeah…” Jarod murmured, “Another proof on how sometimes appearance can deceive.”

Erin began to search for something else to point out.

“Watching the stars often makes me philosophical”, she commented seriously, “This persuades me it’s not a chance that the great classic philosophers such as Plato, Aristotle and Sophocles were also astronomers.”

“I’ve never thought about it”, Jarod said, struck. Erin checked through the viewfinder, made another adjustment and announced:

“This is Vega, the main star of Lyra, the brightest star in the summer sky.”

“And what’s that one, then?” Jarod asked, pointing at a very bright dot. Erin checked it and shook her head:

“That’s not a star, but the planet Venus”, she explained.

Jarod took his eyes off the sky and looked at Erin.

 

“Your beauty darkens its splendour”, he stated softly. She felt her face blushing at this romantic statement and, not knowing how to answer it, she whispered only:

“Thank you.”

For a long moment, they stood there, just looking into each other’s eyes in the dim starlight; then Jarod turned his face and stooped on the telescope to watch Vega.

In the following twenty minutes, Erin showed him other particularly interesting objects, stars, globular masses and nebulae, then she put aside the optical instrument and asked him:

“Would you like me to teach you to recognize a few constellations?”

“Sure!”

“Then to watch them there’s nothing better than laying on the ground”, she said, “so you won’t get a stiff-neck.”

She rummaged through the big case and took out a thick, rolled up rug, which she spread out on the floor. It was a bit small for the two of them, but they solved the problem holding in each other’s arms, and it surely didn’t disappoint either of them.

“Good, let’s start from the Great Bear that you already know”, Erin began, pointing, “Can you find again the Pole-Star? Well, it’s located at the end of the stick of another _ladle_ , much smaller, known as the Little Bear constellation. And do you see those five stars forming a W? No, turn your head this side. That’s Cassiopeia. Good, now go back looking at Vega, do you see that other bright star? It’s Deneb, in Cygnus, you can recognise it easily because it’s shaped like a big cross. And that third star is Altair, in Aquila, another cross, but its major axis is slightly crooked. And down there, there’s Arcturus, in the constellation of Boötes, also called the Bear Watcher because it’s next to the Great Bear. Nearby Boötes you find the Corona Borealis, do you see those six stars shaped like a crown? Between Corona Borealis and Lyra there’s that quadrilateral, with all around stars scattered in a spiral: that’s Hercules”, she paused and looked at Jarod to determine if he wasn’t getting bored, and seeing him absorbed in watching the sky, she was glad to discover him still interested, “These are just the major constellations now observable, and I pointed you out only the main parts. Otherwise, we’d have to stay here all night long...”

She broke off because Jarod had taken his eyes off the sky watch her, and even in the faint starlight, his expression was unmistakable.

“If this is an invitation, I take it gladly”, he whispered. He turned so he could bow his head to kiss her; Erin snaked her arms around his neck even before their mouths met, parted her lips and welcomed his kiss, returning it. Her response, prompt and passionate, made Jarod’s blood boil in his veins; he began to caress her. Sighing in bliss, she took his shirt off his pants and brushed his spine with her nails; Jarod shivered under her touch and began to unbutton her shirt.

All of a sudden, a kind of frenzy caught them both; they tore off their clothes until they were completely naked under the pale starlight, clinging to one another, devouring each other with deep and passionate kisses, exchanging burning strokes.

Under Jarod’s skilled fingertips, Erin’s nipples became stiff to a point they almost hurt, wringing a protesting moan from her as he tickled them with his tongue; but the sweet torture was not over, because Jarod travelled slowly downwards, with his fingers and his lips, leaving on her skin a trail of fire, lower and lower, until he reached the core of her womanhood. With the tip of his tongue, he tempted her, first lingering on the surface, pleasing her clit, brushing the warm slit between her nether lips; then he penetrated her with his tongue, darting in and out while making love to her, savouring her, arousing her almost to an intolerable point.

Erin uttered a begging moan, arching her back in pleasure; hearing that heart-breaking sound, Jarod lost the iron self-control he had managed to hold so far and, with a groan of longing, he rose, lay on top of her and took her.

Erin felt her depths burning, an almost unbearable heat consuming her, and welcomed Jarod with a gasp of relief: one moment more and she would pass out from desire. She was greedy like she had never felt before, and this made her brazen and bold; she lifted her legs, winding them around Jarod’s waist, hooking her ankles behind him to increase the deepness of his penetration. In this position, both were highly stimulated; indeed, they needed only a few minutes and then, for the first time at precisely the same moment, the spasms of the climax shook them, so violently that they felt weak and drained.

Breathless, heated, with light heads and wild beating hearts, they held each other tightly, until the physical and emotional storm was over. Then, Jarod pulled away and rolled on his back, risking falling out from the rug, but keeping his hold on Erin.

“I’ve always dreamed of making love under the stars”, she breathed in his ear, with a languid and slightly hoarse voice: the voice of a woman her man had fully satisfied. For the first time in his life, Jarod felt the pride of the man capable to make his woman happy, not only sexually, but also under every other point-of-view.

“We’ll do it again”, he whispered in return, “Whenever you want.”

They stayed there, rocking one another for a long time, then the chill night air persuaded them to go back inside; they went to bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

 

Saturday, July 6th, 10.00 a.m.

 

The morning after, the catering enterprise the hosts had hired arrived and began the preparations for the cocktail party to celebrate Frank De Rossi’s sixty-fifth birthday, which took place in the afternoon, under a large pavilion among the trees of the garden. On the guest list were some local VIPs, such as the mayor and the police chief, as well as the governor of California, who had been a friend from college of Frank, the commander of the FBI San Francisco branch, and a few members of the CIA. There were of course also relatives and friends, more or less close: about seventy people altogether.

Some specialised people would look after the children, making them play and amuse themselves in a smaller pavilion put up especially for them.

At the bar counter, two professional barmen served alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages, occasionally performing dexterity shows with glasses and bottles; a number of waiters swarmed about the guests, carrying trays loaded with glasses of champagne and soft drinks, and appetizers. The low dance floor was still in its place, but instead of the deejay, there was now an orchestra performing dancing music.

The happening was formal enough to require tie and jacket, therefore Jarod donned his cream colour linen suit and the blue shirt he had put on in San Francisco, the night he and Erin had gone out for dinner and then to the nightclub. Jarod smiled, recalling that evening: Erin had looked so beautiful in his eyes, his heart had almost burst, but because he was sure that for the two of them there was no future, he had put aside his feelings. And then, only ten days later, he had met her again. He had reckoned how many probabilities there were that this could happen, and the result, being an eight-figure number, had convinced him it couldn’t had been a sheer chance: _up there_ somebody had decided that they had to be together. And the more time passed by, the more he was convinced about it.

Erin chose a short cocktail dress of cherry red stretch lace, with a lining of the same colour covering her from her breasts down to just half thigh, leaving the rest almost at sight; she styled her hair in a soft bun, with a few falling locks framing her face. Jarod thought that looking at her was always an eye-candy.

When the orchestra began to play a quick foxtrot, Jarod invited Erin to dance; like the Caribbean dancing, in a short time they fitted together very well.

After a series of pieces, Frank came and asked for the lady, who Jarod gave graciously. He took advantage and invited Francesca, and later Maureen and Dolores, while Erin danced first with her grandfather and then with her brother.

At last, they met again in front of a champagne glass.

“I asked the director for a _paso doble_ ”, Jarod told her, being this their favourite dance, “He should perform it…” the orchestra intoned the first notes of a famous piece, and he smiled, “now!”

Laughing, they put down their glasses and headed for the dance floor, where they began dancing.

The music took them immediately, carrying them away with it, wringing from them the burning passion typical of the Spanish people who created _paso doble_ ; in half a minute, the other dancers began to stop to watch them, and finally only the two of them remained on the floor.

As she realised it, stage-panic overwhelmed Erin for a moment.

“Oh gosh, what shall we do now?” she whispered to Jarod. He flashed her an encouraging smile:

“We’re on the wire… let’s dance!”

His joking tone defused the situation and Erin relaxed.

They danced on, displaying all their skill, and the orchestra played their game, prolonging the piece far over its normal length and allowing the two dancers to show the vast number of steps that _paso dobe_ counts. Finally, there was a thundering ovation for the two performers, who bowed to the audience like professionals, their eyes sparkling: they had enjoyed every second of it.

The afternoon passed merrily by, and at last, the cake arrived, placed on a tree-shaped support, its leaves actually trays carrying each a _Sacher Torte_ , Frank’s favourite. There were six of them, five with ten and one with fifteen small candles, which Frank blew out with big puffs, making all the children laugh hard.

“Wonderful party”, Jarod complimented Frank, as even the last guest took leave, at about 7.30 p.m., “Everything was perfect.”

He didn’t tell him that this had been the first time he shared a birthday party.

“Thanks, Jarod”, the elderly man said, looking with true sympathy at the man that had been able to make his beloved daughter smile again, “I’m glad you had fun. Did you like the cake?”

Jarod smirked:

“Delicious!”

“Then ask Erin to cook one”, Frank suggested, laughing, “She adores chocolate, and she cooks the best _Sacher Torte_ in the world. It’s a receipt that women of my mother’s family are handing down for generations, out of the time that Venetia – the Italian region my parents come from – was under the Austrian domination.”

“I won’t miss it”, Jarod said, “Erin is really a very good cook.”

Frank nodded his agreement.

As they went back to their lodge, Erin headed for the bathroom and began filling the bathtub with water.

“Too much parties are not good for health”, she commented, “Some relax is highly recommended.”

She stretched, and the movement attracted Jarod’s gaze on her; noticing his eyes, sparkling in a way she had come to know very well by now, Erin moved again, in a more languid manner.

“Shouldn’t we try the hydro-massage?” she teased him. He grinned:

“No need to tell me twice!”

As he undressed in the bedroom, Erin removed her make up, but kept her hairdo. When the bathtub was almost full, she added to the foaming water a few drops of ylang-ylang essential oil, which helps relaxing, then quickly took off her dress and underwear and dove.

“Well, Jarod, are you coming?” she called him with cheerful impatience. A moment later, Jarod appeared on the threshold, naked.

“Here I am, honey”, he said. Erin’s eyes went downwards and stared at his erection.

“Something tells me you’re happy to see me”, she muttered in an allusive tone. Jarod looked down and couldn’t help but grin:

“You guess right, baby!”

Jarod put one foot in the bathtub; the water was lukewarm, perfect for this warm July evening, and smelled of ylang-ylang, which favours sensuality. Before he could make another move, Erin cupped the tower of his manhood and began stroking it. Jarod winced in pleasure, as every time she touched him, and uttered a soft groan. She smiled seeing his reaction and went on to caress him in this arousing way. Under her hands, she felt him harden even more; she heard his breath coming faster, and as she realised he was reaching the edge, she stopped and pulled away, making him room in the bathtub. Jarod entered and sat down in front of her; at once, Erin moved forward and sat between his legs, her core against his, placing her arms around his neck. His scent of sandalwood reached her nostrils, mingled with the ylang-ylang coming from the water, and she felt intoxicated.

“ _Te quero_ (I want you), Jarod…” she breathed in his ear in a husky voice. She seized his earlobe with her teeth, biting it gently and giving him shivers down his back. Jarod clasped her, enjoying the feeling of her breasts against his chest; Erin surely knew how to drive a man crazy, but because she was mostly unaware of her skills as a seductress, her charm was thousand times greater than any famous _playmate_ of any _for men only_ magazine.

“ _Yo tambièn te quero_ (I want you, too), Erin”, he whispered to her; he liked using Spanish to speak words of love, because it was a language that could perfectly put together the passion of both soul and body.

He moved his head, turning his face to hers and placing his mouth on hers. With exasperating slowness, he stroked her lips with the tip of his tongue, first the joining, then the corners, plunging then little by little between them to meet Erin’s tongue, warm and wet, slipping along it to explore the deepest spots of her mouth.

Erin almost couldn’t breathe, savouring his kiss; every time Jarod kissed her, she was breathless because of the emotions he was able to stir up inside of her, in her body as well as in her soul, and this time, too, she felt shaken down to every last fibre of her being. Never had she felt something even vaguely comparable, except maybe her first kiss, which she had, at sixteen, from a guy whom she had been desperately in love with, the way that only at this sweet age is possible – or so she had thought until she met Jarod…

She moved her centre, stroking it against his manliness; Jarod groaned, dove his underwater and grasped her buttocks, crushing her against his body. It was Erin’s turn to groan, feeling the tip of his shaft brushing her opening.

If she knew how to drive crazy a man, Jarod, too, had some good cards to play.

With a smile full of promises, he pulled back, escaping the circle of her lovingly arms, and turned around her; sitting behind her, he propped his back on the edge of the bathtub and took her again in his lap. He slipped his arms under her armpits, embracing her, and cupped her breasts. He tickled gently her nipples with his fingertips until they stiffened, and hearing Erin’s soft moan, he smirked by himself: he adored arousing her as much as being aroused by her, he adored touching, fondling and kissing her, he adored making love to her in all ways, and giving her pleasure was far more rewarding than receiving it from her. Because Erin was his woman, the right woman for him, and making her happy had become the main purpose of his life… more important than the Centre, more important even than his family. When he had realised it, a few days back, he had felt guilty, thinking it very selfish from him putting aside his family for Erin’s sake, but then he had recalled the words of the Bible: _you will leave your father and your mother to join your woman, and you will be with her one body and one soul_. Therefore, he had realised there was nothing selfish in his wish to be with Erin, it was simply the natural way life worked. And anyhow, he didn’t suddenly care no more about his family: simply, his priorities had shifted, and they were no longer on the top of his list.

Focusing again completely on the woman he was holding, warm and shaky, Jarod slid his hands down her body, caressing her throbbing belly, then her voluptuous hips, down along her beautiful shaped legs as far as he could reach; then he came back upwards, passing on the front of her thighs and finally slipping his fingers between them. Erin didn’t hesitate and parted obediently her legs, offering herself to his touch with an anticipating sigh that made Jarod smile again.

Feeling Jarod’s hands climbing the internal side of her thighs, Erin perceived a wave of heat in her lap. The promptness she reacted to his touch always amazed her: she had never been, or better, she had never thought to be, a very _hot_ woman, in bed, but Jarod was teaching her she was instead a passionate lover, and very imaginative, too.

Jarod’s fingers reached her core and touched the access to her most secret part. She uttered a gasp and her hands contracted involuntarily on his thighs, where she had placed them. She threw her head back on Jarod’s shoulder, exposing her throat; he bowed his head to brush its velvety skin with his lips and the tip of his tongue.

Jarod returned one hand on Erin’s breasts, leaving the other one between her legs; he began to massage her clit with his palm as he slowly introduced one finger in her warm depths, arousing her as merciless as she had with him earlier. He felt her tremble against him and heard her utter a choked pant, her breath quickening, almost frantic.

Erin thought the pleasure he was giving her was almost unbearable; as she approached the edge, she stopped his hand and pushed it away, turning between his legs. Her gaze was dark with lust and reflected Jarod’s.

She knelt over his lap and lowered herself; helping herself with one hand, she guided him inside of her, slowly, because she loved the feeling of him entering her.

Jarod grasped her, pushing his hips upwards to meet her with the same slowness, savouring every inch of her depths. She wasn’t narrow like at the beginning any more, but she kept a size that gave him amazing pleasure.

Erin set a steady and regular rhythm that would take them slowly to the top. She curled her arms around his neck and began raining kisses on his face, lips, cheekbones, nose, eyes, forehead, chin; then she returned to his mouth, where she lingered, nibbling it, before deepening the kiss with such a passion, he was left breathless.

Orgasm grew in their laps, at first slowly, then swifter; feeling it coming, Erin moved more vigorously, as their breaths came in broken rattles and pleasure increased, increased, more and more, and finally exploded like an erupting volcano, hurling them high, beyond the sky, towards infinity.

For long moments suspended out of time, they stayed motionless, enjoying one another in a perfect, indescribable physical and emotional ecstasy.

Then time resumed flowing and they collapsed in each other arms, gasping, their hearts beating wildly, heated even if they were sitting in lukewarm water.

They stayed still, clinging to one another, prolonging the marvellous sensation to be a single being, inseparable, inviolable. In a flash, Jarod recalled the legend Sydney had reminded him, speaking about that perfect being, both male and female, whom the gods had separated in their wrath and whose two halves unceasingly search for one another. As he had said to his former mentor, his own research had come to an end: it was Erin his other half, beyond every possible doubt.

With endless tenderness, he cupped her cheeks and plunged his eyes in the brown velvety deepness of hers.

“You are the most beautiful gift life could give me”, he declared, in a low and vibrant tone, brimming with emotion, “I had nothing, and now I have everything. I was lost in darkness, and now I’m surrounded by light. Not even in my dreams I ever thought I could be more contented than now, with you in my arms...”

Erin felt tears welling up in her eyes; she had been sure that only the fake characters of a novel could speak such romantic and passionate words, and instead she was hearing them now with her own ears, spoken to her by the most extraordinary man she hadn’t even imagined to meet.

Lacking of words, her throat tight with emotion, she knotted her arms around his neck and kissed him.

 

Sunday, July 7th, 02.40 p.m.

 

In the early afternoon, Jarod and Erin took their leave kissing and hugging everybody and left with the invitation to return soon, and then they took the road leading to Santa Lorita.

“You have an extraordinary family, Erin”, Jarod declared, “I’m really glad I had the chance to meet them. They made me immediately feel like one of them.”

She smiled merrily:

“I was sure about that. I hope only that Sean didn’t scold you too much, the other morning.”

Jarod held his breath in amazement, and then grinned: he should have figured out she would guess what they had discussed.

“Nothing I didn’t expect”, he said therefore, “He loves you, and because I, too, love you, we understood each other immediately.”

Erin said nothing, but placed her hand on his knee and squeezed it.


	11. Chapter XI: Arrival Part 1

 

Chapter XI: Arrival Part 1

 

Wednesday, July 10th, 09.10 p.m.

 

Jarod closed the flyer on the last page and placed it on his knees, his gaze blank.

He had just finished reading Erin’s novel, and he had found it simply brilliant. The characters jumped literally out of the pages, the set was depicted in a very vivid way, the plot was enthralling from beginning to end, both in the action and in the reflective or descriptive moments; moreover, unlike any other fantasy novel he had read so far, it spoke about love and sex openly, treating these topics as they are in reality, that is, fundamental facets of life.

In its genre, it was unique, and a masterpiece.

Jarod stood up and went looking for Erin, whom he knew busy in writing the sequel to her main character’s adventures, the formidable healer/warrior woman who had so much of herself.

He halted on the doorway, propping one shoulder against the wall, and watched her as she was swiftly typing on the keyboard; on her face, she wore the anxious expression of the artist in full creative mode: shining, almost unblinking eyes, slightly parted lips, shallow breathing. In such a moment, interrupting this sort of trance would be almost a sacrilege, so Jarod stayed still and silent on the threshold, waiting for Erin to notice him, with the shadow of a smile full of loving pride playing on his lips.

She needed a few minutes, but finally, through her dulled senses, Erin perceived Jarod’s presence and stopped, turning to him a gaze still lost on far horizons.

“I don’t want to bother you”, Jarod said, “but I just finished your book.”

Erin’s eyes focused on him.

“You never bother me”, she stated, honestly, “you’re the less intrusive person on Earth.”

She flashed him one of those bright smiles of hers that turned his knees to jelly, and stood up to meet him.

“Come, I could use a cold drink”, she invited him, “What about some pine-apple juice?”

“Yes, thank you.”

They went and sat outside, under the gazebo, side by side on a rocking couch.

“Well”, Erin asked him, inhaling deeply, “what do you think about it?”

“Absolutely fantastic”, Jarod declared sincerely, “both from the reader’s and from the literary critics’ point of view…”

He told her his opinion, then quoted the scenes that had struck him particularly and praised the choice of certain not banal language patterns, which made the reading even more interesting.

Erin stayed silent as she listened to him, feeling more and more flattered and blushing in pleasure.

“Thank you, Jarod”, she said in the end, “I’m really glad you liked my novel. I hope only that your so much positive critic doesn’t come just from your feelings for me…”

Once more, her modest nature prevented her accepting without discussion such great praises.

“I assure you that, shouldn’t I like it, I’d find a way to tell you without hurting you”, Jarod declared, firmly. When he used this tone, Erin couldn’t help but believe him.

“Okay”, she said, with a slight embarrassed smirk.

“Very well”, he nodded, “One more thing: I find it so good that I’d like to submit it to a friend of mine, a publisher.”

A few years before, under a pseudonym, he had published a romance novel dedicated to Miss Parker, which had been such a success that the editor was still thanking him. In that same occasion, he had been able to save the man from a big trouble with an ex business partner, therefore he owed Jarod not one, but two.

Erin stiffened and shook her head:

“I don’t want to use you to reach high places”, she said with a wry face: this was something she really hated.

“You won’t”, Jarod explained, “I’ll only ask him to read it and tell me his opinion. Lloyd is an enough honest person to express openly what he thinks: if he doesn’t like it, even if he’s a friend of mine, he’ll let me know.”

She looked at him askance, pondering about it. She had no reason to think that Jarod would in any way deceive her, she trusted him too much for that; besides, the thought to allow a perfect stranger to read her manuscript made her less nervous than allowing someone whose opinion was important to her, like in Jarod’s case. Therefore, she finally nodded.

“Okay then”, she accepted, “But I don’t want my name to show, not now, even less in the hypothesis of a publication.”

She made a gesture as if to say _this is a possibility as remote as the moons of Saturn_.

“You’ll use a penname, then”, Jarod smiled, remembering his own – Heart – “Something makes me think you have already one in mind.”

Erin returned his smile: Jarod knew her really well. Unbelievable, as they had been together for less than one month … Besides, she had the same feeling, even if she still knew almost nothing about him.

“You’re right”, she admitted, “What about _Deirdre O’Brian_? It was my mother’s mother girl name, a formidable woman, they told me, and I always liked it much.”

“I think it’s perfect”, Jarod agreed, standing up, “I’ll get my cell and call Lloyd immediately.”

Erin watched him going away, barely believing at the turn things had taken. In spite of her uneasiness on allowing someone to read it, the publication of her novel had always been her dream: was it possible – _maybe!_ she tried to remember – that it was about to come true? She shook her head: life had let her down too many times to make her be truly delusional. She hadn’t enough faith any more to find back her dreams. And after all, even if Jarod had assured her the opposite, she was sure that, at least a little, his enthusiasm came from the fact he was in love with her.

A few moments later, Jarod was back with his satellite phone and sat again next to her. Drawing from his formidable memory, he dialled Lloyd’s direct number at his publishing house. Glancing at his watch, he reckoned it was 6.30 p.m. in New York: Lloyd was surely still in his office, as he usually worked late.

He answered at the third ring:

“Lloyd Darnell.”

He recognised at once his friend’s low bass voice.

“Hallo Lloyd, here’s Jarod”, he began, “Do you still remember me?”

“Jarod, old rascal!” the man on the other end of the connection cried, “And how could I forget you? Without you, at this time I’d be food for fish! How are you?”

“Very well, thanks. And what about you?”

“I’m fine, too, and this is mostly thanks to you. Wait until Bobbie hears about your call… Where are you?”

“I’m very far from the Big Apple, Lloyd”, Jarod answered laughing, “But give your wife a hug from my part, and tell her that I still remember her stuffed turkey.”

“I’ll do that”, Lloyd assured him, laughing in turn, reminding the huge Thanksgiving Day lunch they had shared, “Tell me, what can I do for you?”

“I just finished reading the manuscript of an acquaintance of mine”, Jarod answered, “I’d like you to take a look at it and tell me your objective critics.”

“Of course, Jarod. What is it, an essay, a novel, a treatise…?”

“A fantasy novel.”

“Well, it’s a genre that now goes very well, with _Harry Potter_ and _The Lord of the Rings_ , only to name the greatest hits.”

“Yeah, I know, but this is something a lot _cooler_.”

“I understand. Well, if you submit it to me, I reckon you think it’s good enough. What can you tell me about the author?”

“For now, I prefer not to say anything”, Jarod answered, “And I even don’t want to give you my opinion, so that yours will be completely impartial.”

“Very well, then. How do you want to send it to me?”

“It’s okay by e-mail? I warn you, it’s a rather huge file.”

“Well, just zip it. Anyway, I have a big mail-box, so you can even don’t do it.”

“Fine, I’ll send it to you within the hour.”

“I’ll begin to read it immediately when I receive it. How can I get in touch with you again?”

“Through the e-mail address I’m going to use. Now I must say goodbye, Lloyd. And thank you.”

“No need to thank me! Hear you soon.”

Jarod disconnected the call and looked at Erin.

“All done”, he said, “Lloyd awaits the manuscript.”

“Something struck me”, Erin pointed out, frowning, “My mail shows my real name as a sender.”

“No problem, we’ll use my computer.”

Less than half-an-hour later, the file with Erin’s novel had been forwarded.

The young woman stared at Jarod’s laptop with a dark glare; on the screen flashed a message confirming the sending of the file.

“And now let’s wait for the result”, she muttered. Jarod realised she didn’t believe that the publisher, too, would appreciate her novel. He smiled secretly: he knew that Lloyd would be as enthusiastic as he was. He couldn’t be wrong.

That night, like almost every night after the first time, they made love with the usual passion, then they rested in each others arms, stroking gently one another. An indistinct feeling had bothered Jarod for a number of days now, and at last, he realised the reason why.

“Erin... will you ever allow me entering your heart?”

Erin pulled back from his arms in dismay, looking into his eyes:

“What are you talking about, Jarod?” she protested, “You are _already_ in my heart!”

“Not completely”, he contradicted her, not hiding his sorrow, “Not like your heroine... who is you. I feel clearly that there’s a part of you which holds back from me... You’re still afraid, aren’t you?”

Erin didn’t know what to say, breathless. Jarod read inside of her like in an open book, and she felt defenceless in front of his inquiring but also gentle glance.

“What makes you believe that?”

“You never yield completely... For instance, you never call my name while we’re making love.”

It was true: calling his name, she felt like exposing herself somehow, making herself vulnerable in a way from which there was no return. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he was right: she was still afraid.

She lowered her eyes with a guilty expression.

“I’m... sorry, Jarod. I can’t get rid of it. Are you... loosing your patience...?”

Her voice, crammed with anguish, troubled him:

“No way! I told you that I’d do everything I can to make your fear disappear, without a time limit. But I need you to cooperate. Maybe it’s not enough that you wait it to go away by itself... Maybe you should try something to fight it.”

“If only I knew what to do, I’d do it”, Erin declared, depressed. Jarod stroked her arm, tenderly.

“Maybe you could do something with or for me that you never before dared to do with or for nobody else”, he suggested.

She looked at him blankly, at a loss:

“And what, for instance?”

Jarod shook his head:

“Only you can know it. Think about it, but don’t get a headache because of it”, he concluded, cradling her in his arms again, “I love you, and I’ll love you anyway, even if you’ll never make it to get rid of your issues”, he assured her.

Erin clung on him, biting her lips: oh, why couldn’t she open her soul completely to him? She had been hurt very deeply, but he didn’t deserve to be kept at arm’s length. Her instinct told her high and clear that she could trust him, but her brain reminded her that she had trusted her ex-husband, too, _and look where it has ended_...

“Thank you”, she whispered, “You’re so good to me..”

“I’m not good”, he contradicted her in a low voice, “I’m in love.”

 

Thursday, July 11th, 06.30 p.m.

 

The whole day long, Erin had been very absent-minded. Jarod’s words had struck her deep inside, and her brain kept whirling around his suggestion. _Do something with or for him that I never before had dared to do_. Something told her the solution was indeed this, but nothing came to her mind that could fit.

When she arrived home, as usual she found dinner ready: being an on-line software consultant allowed Jarod to work when, where and how much he wanted, and because he liked cooking, he had taken that task on him. Erin thought it was pleasant entering home and smelling the food, something she hadn’t had since she was a girl, still living with her parents.

“ _Spaghetti_ with clams”, Jarod announced beaming, seeing her appearing on the threshold; by Erin’s great delight, he was specialising on Italian cooking, her favourite.

“Mmmhhh...” she sighed, “My mouth’s already watering.”

“Can you please uncork the wine?” he asked her, as he was finishing seasoning the pasta in a pan, “You find it in the fridge.”

Obviously, it was the _verduzzo_ of Erin’s grandfather’s estate; but it was Sean who was now running the enterprise, the Chiarini Vineyards.

They had dinner, chatting pleasantly; Erin told him about a couple of amusing episodes that had occurred at the gym, making Jarod laugh, and he commented them very impishly, raising Erin’s mirth. They laughed often when they were together, knowing that laugh is a panacea for spirit, and good for the body, too.

They loaded the dishwasher and then Erin went for a shower.

While soaping herself, Erin became thoughtful and her mind began brooding again, as it had done, nearly non-stop, since the morning.

But this time a light went up in her head; she inhaled sharply: all of a sudden, she had realised what she had to do to shatter the last barrier still surrounding her heart, separating it from Jarod’s. She gulped: she wasn’t sure she would be able to bring her purpose to an end, but she was firmly resolved to try.

She exited from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her body, and walked in the dining room. Jarod was sitting at the table, sipping a cold tea while surfing in the internet with his laptop; he looked at her in appreciation and, feeling suddenly more self-confident, she smiled at him.

“You take a shower, you too?” she asked him casually. Jarod nodded, then pointed to his computer:

“Shall I leave it on?”

“No, I was planning something else”, she declared, misteriously. Jarod arched one eyebrow, then closed the flap and stood up; flashing her a puzzled glance, he headed for the bathroom, and shortly after, she heard the shower running.

Erin went to her bedroom and threw away the towel. She took the pillows and piled them against the head of the bed, propping on them and taking a half-laying position. She turned slightly on one side, her legs bent, her upper body three-quarter, her hands behind her neck, in a pose reminding a famous nude portrait of Marilyn Monroe, and awaited, staring at the bathroom door in front of the bed.

A few minutes later, the shower stopped and a moment later Jarod came out, a small towel around his hips. He saw immediately Erin on the bed and paused to look at her. His glance went through all of her, from the tip of her feet, up her bent legs, the curve of her hip, the roundness of her breasts, stopping finally on her face, framed by her long brown hair, spread all over the pillows. Stunned, he thought she was breathlessly beautiful.

She flashed him an inviting smile; Jarod smiled at her in return, feeling desire bursting like a fire inside of him, burning like a torch. With three steps, he reached the foot of the bed and tore off his towel, ready to begin the love game, but before he could stoop, Erin signalled him to stop. Surprised, he obeyed; she turned completely on her back and parted her legs.

“Look at me”, she invited him, her voice so low, he barely could hear her. He dropped his gaze on her rosy slit, shaded by dark curls, and saw that she was touching herself. His manhood began pulsing and his mouth went dry: it’s every man’s fantasy, to watch his woman while she’s pleasuring herself.

Then, suddenly, he realised Erin’s purpose: for the vast majority of people, masturbation is a strictly private matter, almost a taboo. He knew it was for her: if she had chosen to break this taboo for him, it meant she wanted to force herself going over the last barrier separating her from him. He looked at her and read in her eyes the confirmation of his suppositions: Erin was putting herself to a very hard test for his sake. He was tempted to tell her she didn’t have to, that the intention was enough... but he knew that it _wouldn’t_ be enough, that Erin had to go to the bottom of it, if she really wanted rip the last veil of mistrust and be finally free from her fears. Nevertheless, he could clearly see that this was very hard for her, and therefore, to encourage her, to let her know he had gotten it, he whispered to her:

“Thank you.”

Erin understood; the awareness he had grasped her purpose calmed her down and relaxed her. Her fingers moved with greater decision, spreading the folds of her womanliness in front of Jarod’s hungry eyes. She began to brush her clit with her fingertips and felt dampness forming at the pleasure she was giving to herself.

Jarod knelt between her parted legs, his hands itching with the desire to touch her, to caress her himself; he had to use all of his will to remain a passive witness. To prevent his shaking hands to move on their own, he placed them on her knees.

His devouring gaze aroused Erin and she felt her depths catching fire. She plunged one finger inside of her, moving it up and down, at the same time rubbing her clit with the palm of her hand, and felt her internal muscles quiver with the increasing pleasure. She brushed her dry lips with her tongue. This gesture almost had Jarod losing his self-control: he had never felt so aroused in his whole life, and he longed to sink in her warm and inviting body, but once more he was able to restrain himself. He swallowed hard.

Erin was looking at him and noticed his hunger, finding it very flattering. Her eyes wandered on his well-built body and ended up staring at his shaft, engorged and hard. The view increased her arousal. She added another finger, speeding up the rhythm. A short time later, she began to tense in the initial phases of an orgasm, and Jarod felt his excitement growing along with hers. Then, Erin uttered a prolonged moan, which volume increased along with the approaching of the top point, and finally it became a scream:

“Ooohhhh Jarod… Jarod!!”

Her body arched as waves of pleasure shook it; hearing her calling his name at the highest point was too much for Jarod: a couple of seconds later, unexpectedly, he too reached his climax. Breathless with surprise, he threw back his head and uttered a rattling groan of astonished pleasure, clasping spasmodically his fingers on Erin’s knees as his seed spurted on her legs and abdomen.

When the quake of their senses calmed down a little, they looked in each other’s eyes, still gasping. Erin felt her head swirling in an irrepressible sense of triumph: she knew she had shattered the barrier, and was proud she had aroused Jarod, not even touching him, to the point to make him come. From his part, Jarod thought his heart was about to burst for the happiness to see Erin finally free from her own chains, and was stunned at the proof of how much she could affect him, knowing he could affect her as much. He smiled at her, and Erin returned his smile. The awareness that their relationship had reached its maximum depth glowed in their eyes as they locked lovingly.

Then Jarod stooped backwards, gathered the towel he had discarded and cleansed Erin from his own fluids, with slow and sensual movements as if caressing her; when he finished, he tossed the small cloth and rested next to her, wrapping his arms around her.

“I love you, Erin”, he told her in a low and intense voice, “For the gift you just gave me, I love you even more than before.”

She crouched in the circle of his arms, feeling still euphoric.

“I love you, too, Jarod”, she declared, “and now, thanks to you, I know that I’m saying it from the bottom of my heart, with no reservations.”

 

Monday, July 15th, 07.20 a.m.

 

During the four weeks they had spent together, each day Jarod and Erin had found more and more confirmations that they were made for one another. Furthermore, the mysterious feeling of knowing each other for years instead of mere weeks was constantly increasing, supported by the ability both had to predict one another’s desires, an ability that more than once had left them literally astonished. It happened especially the day they celebrated their first month together.

Erin had decided to give Jarod a present, and she had chosen a high precision chronograph in gold with rubies; she had asked for an engraving in the case: the Irish symbol of love called _Claddagh_ , two hands holding a crowned heart.

On that morning, they awakened as usual in each other’s arms: a sweet habit, but it came with a price, consisting in stiff limbs and aching backs; but, in spite of this, they simply couldn’t stop themselves from doing it: it seemed that they searched one another even while sleeping.

Making a wry face, Jarod stretched, then laughed, seeing Erin pulling a face as well.

“Good morning, honey”, he said, kissing her, “I’ve got a present for you.”

He offered her a small packet, wrapped in metallised paper, green because it was her favourite colour; Erin blinked, then grinned, acknowledging she wasn’t surprised at all. She _knew_ that Jarod would have her same idea.

Keeping silent, she turned and took from the nightstand drawer the packet she had prepared, handing it to Jarod. He, too, blinked in a mimic mirroring perfectly Erin’s. He smiled; for a long moment, they stared into each other’s eyes, losing themselves in the depths of their loving gazes.

“Don’t you want to open it?” Jarod asked at last in an undertone. Erin lowered her gaze on the small packet and, feeling thrilled like a teenager, she unwrapped it with shaking fingers.

If she hadn’t been surprised that Jarod had thought to give her a present for their first _monthversary_ , the gift itself left her open mouthed: it was a bracelet in white gold, shaped like a _Claddagh_ , its heart decorated with a few tiny diamonds. Tears stung in her eyes, and the glance she addressed to Jarod was more expressive than a thousand words.

 

 “Oh, _tesoro_ ”, she whispered, using the sweet Italian word meaning _sweetheart_ , “it’s stunning.”

She handed him the bracelet so that he could fasten it around her wrist, then she admired its effect.

“White gold is my favourite”, she confessed.

“I know”, Jarod smiled at her, “I’ve noticed your jewels are almost all in white gold.”

Once more, he was showing his attention to her preferences, Erin realised. She stooped over to him and placed her arms around his neck, then she kissed him passionately.

“Good heavens…” Jarod mumbled, “Are you sure you must go to the gym, this morning?”

She grinned impudently and pulled back.

“Now it’s your turn”, she exhorted him, pointing to the packet she had handed him. Jarod unwrapped his present with trembling hands, thrilled. He opened the small box and admired the elegant chronograph.

“It’s fantastic”, he stated, taking it out and turning it to watch every angle. His gaze rested on the engraved symbol and his eyes widened in amazement, and for a few seconds he wasn’t able to utter a single word.

“Amazing…” he breathed at last, “Really, if I didn’t see it by myself, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“Indeed”, she agreed, nodding slowly, “Telepathy?”

“Or… reincarnation?”, Jarod wondered, “If it would have been scientifically proved, I’d be sure that, in another life, or maybe in more than one, we already met and were a couple…”

He fastened the chronograph on his wrist, than he wrapped his arms around her.

To Jean’s great amusement, on that morning Erin was noticeably and completely unusually late at work.


	12. Chapter XII: Arrival Part 2

 

Chapter XII: Arrival Part 2

 

Friday, July 19th, 06.40 p.m.

 

Sitting in front of Jarod’s computer, Erin watched in trepidation at the sender name displayed on the e-mail message: it came from Lloyd Darrell personally. Jarod hadn’t read it, wanting her to do it, and anyway he already knew what its contents were.

“Don’t you want to open it?” he exhorted her, standing behind her, even if he understood her hesitation.

Erin drew in a deep breath, than clicked on the message.

_Dear Jarod,_ the publisher wrote, _I must tell you at once that you discovered a great talent. I read lots of manuscripts, as you know very well, but I rarely felt so engrossed. I was literally carried into the fantastic world your friend has created – is it a woman? From the way the novel is written, I’d say so. It’s absolutely brilliant. Tell her that I want to publish it as soon as possible. Normally, to an author at his first publication I offer a wage of $ 5,000 and royalties of ten percent, but in this case, it’s my intention to double everything. Let me know. Lloyd._

Erin stared incredulous at the sentences, but Jarod burst into laughter.

“Lloyd’s gone crazy over your novel, Erin!” he cried, stooping to hug her, “It’s absolutely not his habit to offer such high wages to an unknown author. You knocked him out, baby!”

Happy and thrilled, Erin laughed and wept at the same time.

“Oh my God, Jarod…” she whispered, wiping her tears away, “It’s a dream coming true, a dream I didn’t believe would ever be possible…”

“Never stop believing in dreams”, Jarod stated in a low voice, kissing her temple and rocking her, “Without them, your soul would be dead.”

They had tried to do this to him, at the Centre, but, luckily, they didn’t succeed; but it seemed they had been successful with Miss Parker, his sweet childhood friend.

He turned away his thoughts from her and focused them again on Erin.

“Well, what d’you think?” he smiled at her, “Shall I tell Lloyd to prepare an agreement?”

“I know nothing about publisher contracts”, Erin pointed out, hesitantly, “I know he’s a friend of yours, but how can I be sure as not having bad surprises in the future?”

“You don’t need to worry about anything”, he reassured her, “I’ll take care of it.”

He had been attorney, and besides, he knew the publisher’s world: he would make her sign only a contract with the maximum advantage for her.

Erin recalled something:

“I want to keep the movie rights… At this point, I’m willing to believe that someone will make a film out of it! And in this case, I want to write the script. With a professional assistant, of course.”

Jarod’s smile broadened:

“And maybe you have already thought about the actors, now haven’t you?”

She blushed: yes, she had given thought to it, but she had never taken it seriously, positive it was just her wildest dream.

“Angelina Jolie and David J. Elliott would fit really well”, she declared, grinning. Jarod arched an eyebrow, than both burst into laughter again.

 

Saturday, July 20th, 08.20 p.m.

 

“I’m ready!” Erin announced, entering the drawing room where Jarod was waiting for her, wearing a chocolate silk shirt and white linen pants. Erin thought he was very handsome, and as usual, she felt her blood boiling just looking at him.

Tonight they were holding the gym’s party, where all instructors and patrons had been invited; about eighty people were coming. They had rented a little disco with a deejay, the same professional of the De Rossi party on July 4th.

Jarod turned to welcome her, and his gaze lighted up with admiration: Erin sported an asymmetric top with one string, in sparkling golden Lurex, and a tight miniskirt of stretch jeans, in which golden threads shone. She had put on closed sandals, fastened at her ankles, with four-inch stiletto heels.

Erin turned slowly around, and Jarod saw that she had decorated her bun with a golden metallic pin.

“Well, do I look good enough?” she asked, facing him again.

“Should I say no, would you decide not going out and spend a fiery night with me?” Jarod retorted with a wry face. She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him up and down.

“I could do it indeed”, she sighed then, “but unfortunately I’m the gym owner and cannot quit on patrons and employees, don’t you agree?”

Jarod echoed her sigh:

“You’re right: _noblesse oblige_ , they say.”

Half an hour later, they arrived at the _Quake_ , where those who were already there cordially welcomed them. The deejay was playing some nice disco music, and several people moved already on the dance floor. Jarod and Erin joined them at once.

They danced nonstop for over one hour and a half; a few slows alternated with the rhythmic pieces, when the couples held one another and danced languidly in the space of a tile, cheek to cheek, in a soft play of coloured lights and shadows.

“Let’s get a drink”, Jarod suggested. Erin nodded and, hand in hand, they headed to the bar and sat at a table; they had fruit cocktails, and sipped them slowly.

At a certain point of the party, they had planned a sing show, where the guests would perform; therefore, the waiters distributed leaflets in order to allow them choosing a piece. Jean was the first who gathered enough courage to try it out; with her contralto voice, quite well attuned, she sang a beautiful melodic piece of Mariah Carey called _Hero_ , earning an enthusiastic applause from the audience. Then was Pat and Nick Shoults’ turn, who intoned together _Welcome to Miami_ , a hot rap by Will Smith. Other followed, among patrons and instructors of the gym, all more or less good.

Erin watched the impromptu artists who followed each other on stage, waiting for her own entry; she had booked a song, but she hadn’t disclosed to Jarod which one, returning the secrecy he had showed the night he had been able to make her confess his love for him.

Finally, it was her turn, and Erin walked on stage, anxious to the point her hands were ice-cold, wondering if she could keep a steady voice until the end, because she was sure she would be very nervous during the performance. She had picked a song by Shania Twain called _You’ve got a way_ , because it looked as if it had been written specifically for her, and exactly for this moment.

The music began to play and Erin had no time left for any changes of mind.

 

_You've got a way with me_

_Somehow you got me to believe_

_In everything that I could be_

_I've gotta say - you really got a way_

 

Jarod guessed easily that Erin was talking about the two of them, and his gaze became very attentive.

The others, too, guessed it, particularly Jean, who adored this song and knew everything, included the recent developments about her friend’s book, which she had been one of the few who had been allowed to read it.

Erin went on with the second _stanza_ with a firmer voice:

 

_You've got a way it seems_

 

_You gave me faith to find my dreams_

_You’ll never know just what that means_

_Can’t you see… you got a way with me_

Moved tears stung Jarod’s eyes: so it was _this_ what he had been able to do for Erin… he had given her back the capability to believe in her dreams, as he had been able to give her back her faith in love… His humbleness had prevented him to realise it clearly, so far, but Erin’s attitude, the way she was singing, the way she was looking at him, couldn’t be mistaken.

His plain emotion touched Erin, who began to feel a pressure in her throat where a lump was sticking; she gulped it down, swallowing hard, and continued:

 

_It's in the way you want me_

_It’s in the way you hold me_

_The way you show me_

_Just what love’s made of_

_It’s in the way we make love_

Tears filled Jarod’s eyes; he didn’t care hiding them, not in front of the woman he loved, and about the others he couldn’t care less: let them see his emotion, let them understand the deepness of his feelings for Erin…

Erin saw that he was on the edge of tears and her voice almost betrayed her; she gathered her strong will and went on steadily:

 

_You've got a way with words_

_You get me smiling even when it hurts_

_There’s no way to measure_

_What your love is worth_

_I can’t believe the way you get through to me_

Jarod covered his mouth with one hand to restrain a sob, moved beyond any possible description. Erin was almost at the limit, and her voice trembled slightly as she began the _crescendo_ :

 

_Oh how I adore you_

 

_Like no one before you_

_I love you just the way you are_

 

She sang the last _stanza_ with the confidence she was now feeling in her heart, a confidence that showed through her voice, making it plain to the whole audience:

 

_It's in the way you want me_

 

_It’s in the way you hold me_

_The way you show me_

_Just what love’s made of_

_It’s in the way we make love_

And the last verse was an absolute statement that couldn’t be contested:

_It’s just the way you are_

Unable to utter a single word, not caring about the presence of so many other people, most of them unknown to him, Jarod stood up and went to Erin with an expression that proclaimed to the whole world the nature of his feelings for her. As soon as he approached her on the stage, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly in front of everyone.

The audience burst into a thundering ovation as the couple continued to kiss desperately, and went on until they left and, thanking, stepped off the stage to return to their table. Jean was weeping, full of joy for her friend as if she was a dear sister who, after so much suffering, had finally found happiness again.

 

Monday, July 22nd, 01.30 p.m.

 

On that day, as it happened often, Jarod had picked up Erin at the gym to go out to lunch together; while coming back, Erin asked him to make a short detour:

“I’d call at the bank, can you take me there?”

“Of course.”

The place was almost empty, at this time of the day, so there were only a small number of open counters and they had to queue up with a couple of clients. While they were calmly waiting for their turn, three scoundrels masked with balaclavas suddenly burst into the bank, carrying rifles; everyone – clients, employees and the armed guard – froze as if paralyzed by surprise and terror. But a cashier had the presence of mind to push with his feet the silent alarm button, which alerted directly the police station.

Aiming his rifle on the guard, one of the three robbers ordered:

“Take your gun with two fingers and toss it on the floor, _now_!”

The guard, who was a family man, didn’t even think to make a stand. This would have been his duty, of course, but the tangible possibility to leave orphaned his two children didn’t allow him to fight them. He did as the crook had told him, and this way he probably saved his own life.

“Everybody, in that corner!” the second bandit barked, pointing the rifle barrel at the clients, including Jarod and Erin.

This wasn’t the first time Jarod had found himself in the middle of a robbery: a few years before, he had been trapped in a similar situation with his huntress, Miss Parker, and it wasn’t a nice memory.

He watched the bandits with gloomy eyes.

One of then threw a jute sack to each cashier.

“C’mon, fill them up!” he ordered them, snarling, “Only small bills, and none from the bottom!”

Usually, the last banknotes of every bunch were marked, foreseeing the possibility of a robbery. It was plain that the crooks knew what they were doing, Jarod decided.

Erin, after her initial terror, felt now strangely calm. The long years spent close to security agents of CIA and FBI, because of her father’s job, had taught her that panic is very dangerous in these situations, and in some way, they had her prepared to face something like this. She, too, looked at the robbers with a dark expression.

In the distance, they heard the police sirens, swiftly approaching; with a quick move, one of the robbers grasped brutally a pregnant woman, who was standing next to Erin, and aimed his rifle against her hip.

Jarod jerked and couldn’t stop himself:

“Leave that poor woman alone”, he intervened, taking a step toward the robber, “She’ so big, she’d only hinder you. Take me instead of her.”

The crook directed his rifle on Jarod.

He couldn’t have done a greater mistake.

Seeing his man under threat was too much for Erin: something snapped inside of her, like a switch, and adrenaline rushed to her head. She saw literally red; suddenly, the something that had snapped inside of her changed her in a living weapon, with no consciousness or awareness of danger, whose only reason of existence was to defend the beloved person, at any cost.

The action that followed lasted no more than a handful of seconds, but when later they thought over it, it seemed like an eternity to both of them.

With a fierce roar, Erin jumped forward, grabbed the rifle by the barrel and landed a brutal sidekick to the robber’s stomach; he doubled over and lost his grasp on the weapon, so she could tear it off his hands. Using it like a club, Erin hit the crook full in his face, breaking his jaw and putting him down, knocked out. The woman he had taken as a hostage shrieked in terror.

Jarod reacted with an almost super-human readiness, out of pure instinct: taking advantage of the confusion, he jumped on the second robber, threw him to the ground with a sweep from behind and seized his rifle. In the meantime, Erin turned around her weapon and fired at the third bandit, hitting him on one shoulder; the impact of the big calibre bullet hurled the man backwards and he crashed to the ground like a broken puppet, unconscious. The last robber tried to react, but Jarod punched him hard on one temple, sending him directly to dreamland.

Jarod and Erin looked at each other, pale and panting, with blazing eyes, adrenaline sky-high.

Then, from outside came a voice, distorted by the loudspeaker:

“This is the police! Give up, you’re surrounded! Come out with your hands up!”

The director, a distinguished man in his early sixties who knew Erin for many years, approached them; he looked at the robbers prone on the floor, and then at the young woman:

“Good job, lass!” he declared, then he addressed Jarod, “My compliments to you, too, sir.”

“Thanks, Mr. Jordan”, Erin answered, lowering the rifle she was still holding, “But from now on I’d rather use _home banking_!”

In spite of all, Jarod burst into laughter: she was really a formidable woman, if she was joking this way after such a dangerous deed!

The director, too, grinned, but a bit tentatively, having not realised this was only a way like any other to relieve the stress. Then he approached the glass door, his hands clearly visible, and opened it, speaking aloud to the police officers:

“I’m Francis Jordan, the director! It’s all right, you can come in safely!”

Meanwhile, Erin had approached the woman whom the robbers had tried to take as a hostage.

“Are you fine, ma’am?” she asked kindly. The woman nodded, her face very pale:

“Scared, but alive”, she answered in a thin voice, “Thank you, miss. You and your friend have saved my child.”

“And all of us in here”, a young man added from not far away. The others nodded in agreement, and somebody began clapping his hands; in a few moments, all the bystanders united in a thundering applause.

When the police officers entered, a few seconds later, they found a very surprising scene: a dozen people clapping their hands; a man and a woman, rifles in their hands, both wearing a very embarrassed expression; three scoundrels with balaclava-covered faces sprawled on the floor, beaten and bleeding. Just in case, the officers aimed their weapons both to the armed couple and to those who were, probably, the robbers.

Jarod and Erin dropped immediately the rifles they were still holding.

“Sergeant Connor, I’m Erin De Rossi”, she called one of the police officers. The sergeant, a tall and well-built man around forty, who had been a patron in Erin’s gym, lowered his gun.

“Miss De Rossi!” he cried, smiling, “You and this man have routed the robbers? How did you do it?”

“Don’t ask me!” she answered, shaking her head, “I don’t know.”

“We’ve been lucky”, Jarod stated.

“Nonsense!” one of the cashiers contradicted him lively, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, both of you. Officer, these two deserve a medal, they’re two heroes, I swear!”

The adrenaline level in Jarod’s blood was lowering, returning to normal levels. As a reaction, he began to tremble, and saw that Erin, too, was showing the same symptoms. Because he knew it was possible to pass out, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and escorted her to one of the benches along the wall at the entrance, sitting then next to her.

“Thank you”, he answered the clerk’s comment, “but I can assure you that in this very moment I feel anything but a hero.”

“Me, too”, Erin whispered in a choked voice, her eyes wide. Now that the effect of adrenaline had vanished, she was realising the risk they had taken, “My God, Jarod, they could have shot us… they could have killed us!”

“But they didn’t, so forget about it”, he cut her off, knowing what she was feeling. He had seen this kind of reaction in soldiers and police officers to whom he had been a colleague during a number of Pretends, and he knew that the only way to get over it is accepting the fact as it was, not thinking about _ifs_ or _buts_.

His resolute, almost rough tone obtained the desired effect, and Erin began at once to breathe better.

They had to stop for a while to give their preliminary statements, then the police let them all go home. Before leaving the building, Erin called Jean to tell her what had happened; she took the afternoon off, too shaken by the event to be able even to think to go to work. Jean understood and exhorted her to relax.

“Stay at home tomorrow, too, if you need to”, she urged her, “I can manage, here.”

“Thanks, Jeanie, you’re an angel”, Erin said, “If I don’t feel comfortable coming tomorrow, I’ll let you know.”

They were about to leave, when they saw that a crowd of curious people had gathered behind the police barrier; there was also a network troupe shooting around and several reporters shouting questions.

“Damn!” Jarod cursed under his breath, “I don’t need this!”

He couldn’t risk to show up on the news, no way, because this would mean the Centre discovering his whereabouts and Miss Parker and her team descending on Santa Lorita like vultures. No, he wouldn’t allow this: he had the right to be left alone, for God’s sake!

With a grim expression, he took Erin’s hand and led her back; they cut and ran from the rear door and took a cab to return home, leaving Jarod’s car parked in front of the bank.

During the run, which lasted about twenty minutes, Jarod remained silent, frowning, and the same sad omen caught Erin that had troubled her one month earlier, when she had sensed he had a secret worrying him.

Realising that his attitude was upsetting Erin, Jarod forced himself to better spirits: he had escaped the peril, why should he worry any longer? He flashed her a reassuring smile and clasped her hands in his, and Erin, knowing he wanted to calm her down, forced herself to return smile and clasp, but the trouble that had caught her persisted, deep down at the bottom of her soul.

When they arrived home, Erin headed for the bar and, like the night they had met, poured whiskey in two glasses. Jarod accepted it, knowing that alcohol is a good sedative for shaken nerves, even if it’s not good taking it as an usual cure.

Then, Erin headed for the bathroom and began to fill up the bathtub: a nice warm bath would help them to relax. From her rich collection of essential oils, she picked camomile and rose, known for their sedative effects, and when the bathtub was filled, she dove in the scented and foaming water of the hydro-massage: it was too small for both her and Jarod, so they had to take turns.

After half an hour, spent listening with closed eyes to soft music coming from the stereo, Erin stood up and dried herself, wrapping a light bathrobe around her naked body. She let out some of the now lukewarm water, and let in enough hot water to restore the temperature. When all was ready, she went to the drawing room to call Jarod.

She caught him sitting on an armchair, staring at an indeterminate spot in front of him, his gaze blank, almost glassy. It reminded her overbearingly the night when he had caught her in this same attitude and he offered her his comfort, and she had accepted it and vented her pain, telling him the unhappy story of her marriage; suddenly, she decided to put aside the scruples coming from her discretion: it was about time to make him speak, so she could help him like he had helped her.

She approached him quietly and sat on the arm of the chair. Silently, remembering how he had acted, she wrapped one arm around his shoulders.

“Jarod…” she called him softly, “What’s wrong?”

Jarod turned and looked at her; he needed one moment to focus his gaze. He saw her looking intently at him with a concerned expression, worried about him, and he realised that she was offering him the same comfort he had offered her one month earlier. He swallowed and felt a lump in his throat, preventing him to speak.

“I’ve been watching you for weeks”, Erin went on, quietly, “Sometimes I see you so sad that I feel my heart breaking. Mostly after using that laptop computer in the metallic case… if it is indeed a computer”, she paused, waiting for a confirmation or a denial that didn’t come; so she continued in a quiet tone, “I said once that when a secret begins to hurt, it hasn’t to be kept anymore. Some time ago, with your help, I put into practice what I preached. Have you any idea how much it has been relieving? How much I am grateful to you? How much I’m happy, now, thanks to you…?” her voice faltered for a short moment, “Please, speak to me”, she begged him.

Jarod was trembling, realising that he couldn’t keep the truth from her any longer. He told it only to Nia, a long time before, but he didn’t describe her his interminable captivity at the Centre in all its horrifying details. She had accepted the few things he had told her, not judging and not asking; but Erin deserved to learn everything, however Jarod wondered if she could bear that knowledge. Yes, he decided: if she had been strong enough to rise alone from the bottom of the abyss of desperation that had swallowed her up after the shattering of her love dream, around which she had concentrated all of her life, if she had been strong enough to allow him to enter her heart, accepting to risk again being hurt, then she was strong enough also for this.

He told her everything: about how he was kidnapped as a child, taken away from his family at the age of four, and brought in a dark place called the Centre, a true museum of horrors; how he had been forced to train his specific skills as a Pretender, under Sydney’s guidance, who he had ended up loving like a father; about his encounter with Miss Parker, the Centre chairman’s daughter; about their friendship, their loneliness, their innocent children love; about Kyle, who many years later he would discover to be his brother, trained by the wicked Mr. Raines to become a killing machine and redeemed before being mercilessly killed; about his empathic friend Angelo, once called Timmy, before Raines’ dreadful experiments would damage irreparably his brain; and then about how, after over thirty years of that life – the only kind of life he had ever known – he had discovered that his Pretends, which he had so far believed to be aimed to mankind’s good, were actually used for nefarious purposes; about his escape from the Centre; about the hunt for him, mainly through Miss Parker, Sydney and Broots, the latter a shy and clever computer technician; about the discovery of the infinite small and great things that makes the _outer_ _world_ various in a way he could never have imagined; about the complex hate-love relationship that tied him now to Miss Parker; about the help he received from Sydney, who loved him like a son. He told her about his success in resolving sad cases and ensure to the police criminals who otherwise would remain unpunished; about his unceasing search for his parents, of whom now he knew names and faces but with whom he wasn’t able to reunite once and for all; how he had finally met his father, Major Charles Russell, three years before, and how with him he had made the disturbing discovery that he had a fourteen-years-old clone, whom the Centre had created. He told her how, along with his father, they had taken him from the Centre; Charles had him under his care now, and they had disappeared for almost one year, until Charles had contacted him again because he had been able to find Emily, his sister. And then he told her about Ethan, whom Catherine Parker, Miss Parker’s mother, had conceived without her knowledge with Major Charles’ semen; about the woman’s fake suicide, so she could escape the Centre to try to save this imposed child, but Raines had killed her.

At the end of the long tale, Jarod was weeping hot tears, venting the excruciating pain the loneliness that had gone with him all his life had caused him, until his encounter with her. Erin, too, was weeping, sharing the sorrow of a man who was particularly sensitive, nonetheless strong enough to have the courage required to show his real feelings with no shame.

 

She wrapped her arms around him and made him place his head on her bosom, stroking gently his short brown hair. She was distressed: she would have never ever believed that such a horror could exist on Earth, a place where the most elementary human rights were not only ignored, but deliberately crushed, and individuals were used and abused and belittled in a way that not even animals deserve.

She rocked him like a child, understanding at last the reason of the oddness she had noticed in him in the weeks they had spent together, his naivety underground that sometimes created an unexpected counterpoint to his mental sharpness, the ignorance of a number of elementary details of social life that made a harsh contrast to his apparently limitless knowledge. He had grown up in an ivory tower that, unlike the fairy-tale, wasn’t the seat of the Fairy Realm but of hell, and it was a miracle of Heaven that he didn’t go insane.

She wondered how she could relieve the immense anguish she perceived in Jarod, how she could possibly make him forget the bitterness of solitude and the lack of love that had characterised such a great part of his life. The answer sounded obvious to her: covering, surrounding him with her love. She made him lift his face and wiped off his tears with her kisses; with one hand, she stroked his arm, until their fingers interlaced.

“If you are here for me”, she whispered to him, her lips close to his, “I am here for you. Until my last breath, until you want me… until the end of time.”

Jarod wrapped his free arm around her waist. Weeping had been as relieving as telling her everything, and his heart was now light as a feather. Erin left his hand, turned and, slipping down from the arm of the chair, settled in his lap. Jarod held her tight, searching for her mouth. He had a thirst for her, he had a hunger for her, he was in need of her as the air he breathed. Feeling so much dependant on her sometimes scared him, but it thrilled him, too, because it was the confirmation that he had truly found the completion of his being.

He kissed her with an intensity he had felt never before, and she returned him with the same intensity. He felt a compelling need for her, not for the physical satisfaction, but far more to express his feelings… to love her with his body as well as he loved her with his heart, mind and soul.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where they made love all afternoon, until night, until losing count of how many times they did it. When they were finally too exhausted for more, they lay there, just holding and caressing tenderly one another; Erin placed her head on Jarod’s shoulder, her lips pressed at the base of his neck, and he stroked gently her hair and back. Then Erin lifted her head, cupped Jarod’s cheeks and looked deeply in his eyes:

“You will be alone never again, Jarod Russell”, she stated softly, for the first time using his true name. Hearing it spoken aloud by her gave him an incredible thrill, which made his heart quiver; he held her tight.

“I know”, he confirmed under his breath, “But you, too, will be alone never again, Erin De Rossi.”

A lump in her throat, Erin returned his hug.


	13. Chapter XIII: Grand Finale Part 1

 

Chapter XIII: Grand Finale Part 1

 

Tuesday, July 23rd, 06.55 a.m.

 

The morning after, Jarod awakened before Erin. Like he often did in this case, he propped on one elbow and contemplated her as she slept, relishing in her beauty, which was internal even before external, and in the marvellous feeling coming from the knowledge of their shared love.

Now to that feeling added the fact he kept no more secrets from her, and this made him euphoric: finally he hadn’t to pretend any longer, or devise on the spot some plausible background.

How great it would be spending the rest of his life with her… but Jarod was bitterly aware that, as long as the Centre existed, this wouldn’t be possible. Feeling suddenly, painfully guilty, he realised he had been deeply selfish: even knowing how much afraid she was to get back in the game, after the terrible disillusionment she had suffered, he had done everything to completely win her heart, even if he was perfectly aware that for the two of them there wasn’t a future together…

No, no! Jarod stopped abruptly that chain of thoughts: there _had_ to be a solution, even if he hadn’t found it so far. He simply needed to think straight, and now that he had nothing to hide anymore, it would be easier.

He hadn’t noticed that Erin had waked up and was watching him. One single glance at his expression was enough for her to sense his mood: since the beginning, she had been very sensitive to his torment, and now that he had told her the reason of it, her perception had become even sharper. Her heart swelled up with intolerable pain: she _couldn’t stand_ seeing him suffer this way.

She sat up.

“Stop it, Jarod”, she exhorted him, worried, “Stop it.”

Jarod jerked and came suddenly back to his senses. He sat up in turn, looking at her in confusion:

“What?”

“You must stop allowing the past to haunt you!” Erin explained, clasping his hands, “Whatever happened, happened. You cannot go on thinking of the Centre, of the terrible things they’ve done to you… it’s over! You are free now, free to live your life, to use your extraordinary skills for the good of other people, to enjoy your present, to plan your future… but you cannot, if you don’t get rid of the past!”

Jarod frowned:

“You cannot understand… How can I plan my future if I don’t know my past?”

For a moment, Erin stared at him completely confused:

“What do you mean? Of course you know it!” she contradicted him, animatedly, “You know who your parents are, that you have a sister, a half-brother, that you’ve been kidnapped at the age of four and spent your whole life at the Centre, until you escaped…”

“They’ve deleted my identity!” Jarod cried, interrupting her with a kind of desperation in his voice, “Do you realise that there isn’t even a birth certificate proving my existence?”

“It’s not a piece of paper that defines you as an individual”, she retorted, passionately, “but the sum of your actions, good and evil, the heroic acts as much as the cowardice, and your thoughts, dreams, purposes, wishes! _These things_ make persons, not a stupid certificate!”

She took a breath to calm down, trying to put in words her chaotic thoughts, to make Jarod understand what a mistake he was making, letting the past to haunt him… a mistake that she, too, had made, and that she had been able to overcome with his help.

“Leave the Centre back, forget it… or destroy it!” she concluded, in a sharp tone that was rarely to be heard in her voice, a tone that didn’t allow objections.

“If I’d do so, all the documentation about how to find and train a Pretender would be lost…” Jarod tried anyway, glowering: he already knew that nothing would change her mind. And he knew also that Erin was right.

“Do you mean perhaps that you’d allow for other children to be kidnapped, exploited and abused like you were?” she asked softly, “I don’t believe it.”

“No, indeed! In the years I spent away from the Centre, I think I have widely proved how my skills can be used to humanity’s advantage…”

“Of course, Jarod. The problem is another: do you really think that any organisation could stay honourable, possessing such a power? You told me that the Centre, too, once devoted itself to good purposes, but it ended up like this. Now you know enough of mankind to judge if it’s mature enough to manage such skills like yours without abusing them.”

“Without a strict control, probably not”, Jarod admitted, reluctantly, “nevertheless, with an adequate supervision, it could perhaps be, and it would be a crime losing all the years of work at the Pretender Project.”

Erin thought about it for a moment.

“Well, speaking about destroying the Centre, I didn’t mean necessarily in a physical way”, she said then, slowly, “My father has still connections in the CIA…”

Jarod looked at her, frowning:

“What do you mean?”

Erin smiled fiercely:

“I didn’t tell you yet”, she explained, “because it isn’t something to tell around freely, of course: he was assistant-director in the Agency. And through the CIA, he can get to the NSA. The DSAs you showed me yesterday will be more than enough. After all, the Centre is a potential threat also to the government of the United States.”

In Jarod’s eyes dawned a light of hope.

“There are people that don’t deserve suffering for this”, he objected then, “Miss Parker, Sydney, Broots, Angelo…”

“They won’t be involved”, she assured him, “We’ll lure them away from the Centre, while we’ll make sure that all the others instead stay. But first thing first, we have to inform my father about everything.”

Jarod was pondering. His clever brain had kicked in with the right prompting and was now working at incredible speed, and in a short time, it took him to a conclusion.

“It’s fine”, he said, looking at her in the eye, “I want to get rid of the Centre and free the world from it, and I’ll do everything I need to succeed.”

 

OOO

 

Erin called Jean, telling her she had a family emergency; she asked her to take care of everything for the next few days, as she had done when she had left everything behind her and for two months her friend managed to go on alone – that was the reason she had later taken Jean as her business partner.

Then, she called her father to make sure he was at home; she had necessarily to be vague, and he exhorted her to join him as soon as possible, whatever the reason was she needed to talk to him.

When they arrived at the De Rossi’s ranch, forty minutes later, they found a plentiful Irish breakfast waiting for them.

“Never have serious discussions on an empty stomach”, Maureen asserted, inviting them authoritatively to have a seat and pick up what she had put on the table, “If you do, you risk having no strength to face them.”

She was right, Jarod thought, unable not feel amused: he appreciated much the way Erin’s mother had been able to ease the situation with her common sense.

They breakfasted together, then they headed for the drawing-room.

“Good, children”, Frank began, wasting no more time, “What’s the matter?”

He needed almost two hours to have an enough detailed picture of the situation, allowing him to make up his mind, but Erin knew well her father and didn’t doubt for one moment which decision he would make.

After having heard Jarod’s dreadful tale about the Centre’s activities and screened several DSAs, Frank De Rossi picked up the phone and dialled a super-secret number he had memorised.

“I’m Thunderhorse”, he said, “I need to talk immediately to Black Rock, but I need a safe line.”

He listened a few moments, then hung up.

“They’ll call back as soon as the line is safe”, he explained to Jarod, “The director of the CIA is an old friend of mine – we have been _buddies_ in the Korean War, and then we joined together the Agency – and he owes me much. But even if he didn’t, what you told me would be enough to have them moving: the Centre is a threat to the government of the United States and has to be stopped. Indeed, I wonder why you didn’t come to us earlier, Jarod.”

Jarod looked from Frank to Erin.

“Because earlier I hadn’t a reason strong enough”, he answered. Frank noticed the exchange of glances and nodded, satisfied.

“How will we manage with Miss Parker and the others?” Erin asked, turning to Jarod.

“I’ll give them a clue that will have them coming to catch me”, he answered at once, “This won’t be difficult. As for Angelo, I’ll ask Sydney to take him away before leaving the Centre to hunt for me with Miss Parker and Broots.”

“But maybe they’ll have to testify in court”, Frank objected, “The President will make inquiries to verify that this isn’t an abuse, and there’s no guarantee that he’ll be content with the DSAs only.”

“They’ll testify”, Jarod said, confident, “Maybe Miss Parker will cause some trouble, but it will suffice giving her the time to digest the facts.”

The phone rang and Frank answered: it was Black Rock. Frank gave him briefly the facts, and as a result, three hours later he, Jarod and Erin were flying to Langley, Virginia, where the CIA headquarters are located. There was no need for Erin to go with them, but she had insisted to, because she would leave Jarod not even for a moment, and he was happy and grateful for this.

Then things developed with a speed that seemed to increase exponentially: Bill Thompson, or Black Rock, the director of the Agency, listened to Jarod’s relation, screened all of the DSAs –  it required several days – which experts analysed thoroughly, sent agents on the field to verify the intervention possibilities, drew up a plan with Jarod and Frank, and then the action began.

 

Tuesday, July 30th, 03.25 p.m.

 

Miss Parker stopped the rented car in front of a small and modest boarding house lost in the country of Arkansas, not far from Hot Springs. She stalked in the small hall, her high heels resounding on the tiled floor, followed more quietly by Sydney and Broots.

A tall young man, looking quite slow-witted, was sitting behind the desk; Miss Parker addressed him without so much as a _good morning_ :

“Have you seen this man?” she asked him, producing a picture. The young man, actually a highly trained FBI agent, peeped at it and smiled:

“But sure, this is Jarod! You’ll find him in the back garden.”

Miss Parker exchanged a glance with Sydney: such luck was odd, to say nothing else. Shrugging mentally, she headed for the French doors on the rear side and walked out; she immediately caught sight of the kneeling shape in the rose garden, a straw hat on his head to shield him from the summer sun, a trimming sewer in his gloved hand. She pulled out her gun and pointed it on him:

“Don’t move, Jarod, I’m aiming at you.”

 

She heard a choked sound behind her, but didn’t turn and kept her stare on the kneeling figure, now slowly turning to face her. Under the hat, she recognised Jarod’s grinning face.

_It’s a trap, baby_ , her mother’s voice whispered in her head, _but don’t be afraid_.

Miss Parker jumped: even after two years since she discovered she had it, she hadn’t get used yet to the Inner Sense, the gift that Catherine Parker had handed down to her and Ethan. Hearing her voice, the rare times she was able to, was still upsetting, and even if little by little she was gaining trust in this odd skill, which allowed her to see people and situations with a doubled perceptiveness, she doubted heavily she could ever get used to it.

“Welcome, Miss Parker”, Jarod greeted her merrily, “I was waiting for you.”

“Drop your gun, Parker”, an icy female voice said behind her; at the same time, from behind two trees as many men came into sight, carrying rifles with laser pointer, aiming at her. At once aware she had no possibilities, Miss Parker raised immediately her hands in surrender. Her face expressed equally surprise and rage.

“I told you to drop it!” the voice repeated; the sharp tone didn’t sound good. Miss Parker obeyed, dropping her weapon and raising again her hands. Slowly, she turned: two big armed guys were holding Sydney and Broots. The technician looked terrified, but the psychiatrist appeared quite calm, and this made her suspicious. But she had no time to come to any conclusion, because her attention was drawn to the young woman with long brown hair who was walking toward her. She was almost 6 inches (15 cm) shorter than her and sported a green dress, tailored in a simple but elegant way, with a buttoned up front side; her face was as icy as the North Pole, and very unusually Miss Parker felt her self-confidence faltering. Not even Brigitte, the merciless killer of the Centre, had ever made her feel like this, yet she had been through hell because of her: why should this woman, whom she was meeting for the first time, intimidate her?

Annoyed with herself, Miss Parker looked at her up and down, which wasn’t hard for her because of her stature, but before she could say anything, the stranger turned to the big guy who was holding Sydney:

“You can let him go, Agent Johnson.”

_She isn’t really hostile to you, baby_ , Catherine Parker whispered, _on the contrary, she can be your friend_.

Meanwhile, Jarod had stood up and got rid of hat, sewers and gardening gloves. He now came up to Miss Parker, staying at a good distance and careful not to walk through the armed agents’ line of fire, who were still pointing their guns to her; he addressed Sydney, who was smoothing his jacket:

“Is Angelo safe?”

“Yes, he is, Jarod”, his former mentor answered, “I took him out last night and he’s now in the institute you suggested me.”

“What is this all about?!” Miss Parker barked, moving her fiery glare from Sydney to Jarod and vice-versa. Actually, she already suspected what the answer may be, so she wasn’t really surprised when Jarod gave it to her:

“The Centre is over, Miss Parker.”

This was too much to allow her believing it on the spot.

“What do you mean?” she snarled.

“In this very moment”, the female stranger answered her, “FBI and NSA agents are breaking into the Centre. They will search every single square inch and arrest everyone. You can be sure that nobody will escape the trap: the operation has been prepared very carefully and no possibility has been overseen.”

For some reason, Miss Parker didn’t doubt for a single moment the truth of those words. She turned her blazing glare on Sydney:

“Sydney, you knew about this!”

The psychiatrist did not even try to deny:

“Yeah, Jarod told me when he asked me to take away Angelo.”

“How could you?!” she attacked him: she felt betrayed… but strangely the feeling lasted only a few moments, replaced by another one she wasn’t able to identify.

_Relief_ , Catherine suggested.

She lowered her eyes to the ground, struck by another thought:

“What will happen to my little brother?”

The boy borne to her father by Brigitte, who died giving him birth. _He_ was her brother, not that wicked Lyle… And she would be really happy to take him away from the Centre.

“In the past few days, his babysitter has been replaced by an FBI female agent. He’s safe, now”, Jarod answered.

“What will they do to the Triumvirate members?” she insisted.

“They will be prosecuted, of course”, Jarod said, “They have to pay for their crimes, as well as Lyle and Raines. And your father, too, when they’ll find him. Because you can bet they _will_ find him.”

Broots, freed from the agent’s grasp, had his own concerns:

“What about my daughter…?”

 

“A social worker and an FBI agent will pick up Debbie when she’s back home from school”, Jarod answered with a reassuring smile, “Well, when it’s time, make a call and tell her that the ladies who are coming will take her to you and that she has nothing to be afraid of.”

Broots hadn’t the same familiarity with Jarod as Miss Parker or Sydney had, but he trusted him, so he nodded. After all, he was quite happy to get rid of the Centre.

Sydney smiled at his former pupil:

“Is it her?” he asked, looking at the young brown-haired woman who ordered to let him go. Jarod nodded, than came near them:

“Erin, let me introduce to you Doctor Sydney Green; Sydney, this is Erin De Rossi. She’s the reason we came to this point.”

Sydney clasped gently the hand she was stretching out and carried it to his lips, kissing it gallantly.

“ _Enchanté_ ”, he told her. Erin thought that the elder psychiatrist possessed all the _charme_ of his Belgian compatriots, and felt a sudden, instinctive respect for him.

“I’m glad to meet you, Dr. Green”, she stated with a smile, “I know you did everything you could to protect Jarod during his stay at the Centre, and also after his escape.”

“I always knew that”, Miss Parker said, approaching and throwing daggers to Sydney; then, surprisingly, she pulled a face and looked as if almost smiling, “Now I’m glad about it”, she turned to Jarod, “Don’t you introduce your friend to me?”

“Erin De Rossi, Miss Parker”, Jarod said quickly. The two women eyed one another up for long moments. Erin thought that Miss Parker was incredibly gorgeous, with those classical features, her Greek nose, her extraordinary blue eyes, and above all her top-model shape, tall, slender and with stunning legs. Compared to her, she felt to be short and plump, and she couldn’t help but feel a painful sting of jealousy.

Sydney looked at them feeling vaguely amused, sensing the confrontation between the two women. Physically they couldn’t be more different, apart from the hair colour, which was a dark brown, almost raven black. In the past, he had often believed that Jarod and Miss Parker were meant to fall in love with one another, and sometimes certain attitudes, mostly from Jarod’s part, had him convinced that this would be. But now, he saw clearly that it couldn’t be, not at all: the two children of his heart, Jarod and Miss Parker, loved each other, surely, but like siblings. They would never be something else.

“Are you a CIA executive?” Miss Parker asked, addressing Erin.

“In a certain way”, was her enigmatic answer, “Let’s say I have some power inside the Agency.”

Jarod hid an amused grin and stepped in:

“Shall we go inside? Soon we’ll hear from the Centre.”

They entered and sat down in the drawing room, where two agents fetched them some snacks. Erin found herself next to Sydney, who asked with kind interest about the circumstances that had her meeting Jarod. While she was telling him about the accident in California, Erin noticed that Jarod and Miss Parker were speaking closely, sitting on the couch in front of her. She made her best to ignore the jealousy that was tormenting her, but she didn’t succeed: Parker was so much more beautiful than her, and knew Jarod for so much a longer time! She felt that her possibilities in a competition were miserable, and little by little, she fell in a deep discouragement, which she hadn’t felt any more since her ex-husband had left her. Nonetheless, she found inside of her the strength to hide her mood and to finish her tale.

Half an hour later, Jarod’s mobile phone rang and he answered, excusing himself.

“The Centre is under control of the Feds”, he announced then, putting away the mobile, “All of the executives have been arrested, with no exception. The Agency has already put to work the best hackers to enter inside the computer systems.”

“Maybe I could help”, Broots offered impulsively. Jarod valued shortly his suggestion, then nodded:

“Actually, no one knows better than you the Centre’s computers. Agent Palmer, take Mr Broots at a console and connect him.”

Broots stood up and left the room, an agent escorting him.

Sydney smiled widely: the nightmare was over, now he could finally go to Michelle and Nicholas and build with them the family the Centre had prevented them to be, twenty-five years ago… It seemed to him that his heart was about to explode in his chest because of joyfulness.

Miss Parker asked:

“What would have happened if someone had escaped the raid?”

“We’d have immediately moved to a safe place”, Jarod answered, “Angelo, Debbie, Michelle and Nicholas would join us. We’d stay hidden in different places until the hunting would come to an end. As you see, I hadn’t overlooked anything.”

Miss Parker closed her eyes; she was pale, but her features slowly relaxed, as if a great burden had been taken from her shoulders. Tenderly, Jarod stroked her hair, ignoring that this friendly gesture was a stab in Erin’s heart.

“I’m free…” Miss Parker whispered in an incredulous tone, “I’m free… And without having to give away your freedom for mine.”

“Would you’ve really done it?” Jarod asked her, softly. Miss Parker opened her eyes and stared at him with her usual belligerent expression:

“Yes, indeed… and then I’d have to live with my decision. I don’t know if I could’ve managed it.”

_You know very well that you never would_ , Catherine whispered.

“Now you don’t need to find it out”, he commented with a smile. And at last, Miss Parker, too, smiled openly, and her face transfigured, and became even more beautiful.

“You don’t know how much I’m glad about this”, she declared, stroking his cheek.

Erin realised she had lost and felt like dying inside. She would have collapsed on the spot, crushed by the dreadful pain tearing her heart to pieces, but the last remainder of her pride prevented her: if she hadn’t collapsed in front of her husband, surely she would not do it in front of her lover.

She stood abruptly up and said stiffly:

“I’m tired, I go for a rest.”

Ignoring Jarod’s surprised glance, she hastily exited the room and ran upstairs, where she took shelter in a random room. Here she flung herself on the bed and started to weep; no tears dropped from her eyes, but terrible sobs were tearing her chest like cruel claws.

Downstairs, Jarod was still staring at the door through which Erin had disappeared.

“Something’s wrong”, he whispered, concerned.

“Yes”, Sydney confirmed, with the keenness of the expert psychiatrist, “She doesn’t understand the nature of the intimacy you and Parker share, and she thinks she’s lost you.”

Suddenly, Miss Parker realised what the relationship between Jarod and Erin was: the two of them loved each other. Sadness darkened her gaze at the thought of Thomas, the only man who had been able to penetrate her armour, making her fall in love for the first and only time in her life; but the Centre had taken him away from her, killing him because they would never allow her to leave them, neither for him, nor for anyone else.

One more thing they would now finally pay for.

“No way!” Jarod denied, “When I told her about my past, I explained her my feelings for Parker...”

“Mind and heart reason in different ways”, the psychiatrist explained, “The comprehension that Erin can have at an intellectual level about your relationship has collapsed, now that she has seen you two together. She needs you to reassure her, Jarod. And it’s likely she’ll require a lot of time to accept emotionally your feelings for Parker, so you must be patient.”

“Yes, go to her, Jarod”, Miss Parker exhorted him, patting him friendly on one hand, “Don’t allow misunderstanding compromise your love.”

Jarod accepted promptly their advice; he rushed upstairs with long steps and looked at the line of doors along the hall: where could Erin be? Intuition led him on the farthest room, and indeed, through the door he heard her painful sobs. His throat tightened.

He opened the door and stuck his head inside:

“Erin, don’t do this, honey...”

“ _Go away_!” she yelled, “Go to her and never come back!”

Stunned, Jarod saw a shoe flying, aimed at him and, quickly shut the door. He heard the sharp thud of the item bumping into the wooden panel.

_Good heavens_ , Jarod thought, shaking his head, _Erin is really appalling, sometimes!_

“Don’t give in”, a female voice exhorted him, and turning around, Jarod saw Miss Parker, who had followed him, “Go back inside and talk some sense into her. And if she won’t listen to your words, then make love to her until you persuade her: if she isn’t willing to believe her mind, she must believe her heart, her feelings, which her body will show in spite of her.”

Jarod looked gratefully at his childhood friend.

“Thank you”, he whispered, before turning and stepping resolutely into the room.

In the hall, Miss Parker smiled at the closed door and whispered in return:

“Not at all, my friend.”

Then she turned on her heels and went back downstairs.


	14. Chapter XIV: Grand Finale Part 2

 

Chapter XIV: Grand Finale Part 2

 

The second time Jarod entered in the room, Erin didn’t threw anything at him; instead, she jumped up sitting on the bed, her back against the headboard, and flashed him a burning glare.

“In what language must I tell you?” she asked through clenched teeth, “Leave me alone!”

Beneath her rage, Jarod perceived her pain clearly, and his heart became heavy with sorrow.

“You can ask me everything, Erin”, he said, quietly, “but not this. Not now, not ever.”

Erin’s shoulders dropped.

“Why are you tormenting me?” she asked, barely able to keep her voice steady, “It’s obvious you love Miss Parker much more than me, so why don’t you go back to her? I give you both my blessing...”

Her voice trailed off and Jarod saw her fighting stubbornly against her tears. The immensity of her love for him took his breath away: she was willing to give him up, as long as he was happy.

Only that apparently she still hadn’t realised where his happiness was.

He came up to the bed and sat on the edge. She withdrew as far as possible.

“No, Erin, love...”, he murmured, “I told you that Parker means much more to me than a friend, much more than a sister... but she is and always will be much less than you.”

Erin didn’t reply and simply looked at him with a distressed expression, showing plainly her mistrust.

“Sweetheart”, he tried again, in a soft tone, “how can you consider, after all that we’ve had together, that I don’t love you more than her? Parker means a lot to me, that’s true, but you mean _everything_! It’s only thanks to you that I’ve found the strength to get rid of the Centre once and for all...”

“You mean thanks to my father!” she retorted, in a sour tone.

“He gave only the means”, Jarod replied, calmly, “but as I already told your father, _you_ are the reason why I finally decided to tear up the Centre.”

She shook her head, obstinately. Jarod realised that her stubbornness came from her fear, the fear she had been able to defeat thanks to him, but that had remained always lurking from a hidden corner of her mind, ready to jump on her at the first sign of weakness. He realised also that logical talk was useless: as Miss Parker had suggested, he didn’t have to speak to Erin’s mind through words, but to her heart through her body.

He stretched over the bed to touch her, but she withdrew. He tried to reach her, but again she backed until she even fell from the bed on the carpeted floor.

In a flash, he was upon her.

“Let me go!” Erin yelled, wriggling wildly. As he didn’t want to hurt her, Jarod simply grasped her wrists, crushing her to the floor with his weight.

“Damn, Erin, I’m not your enemy!“ he cried, desperate, “Don’t you understand that I love you more than my own life?”

Erin looked at him wide eyed, as if she couldn’t believe her own ears, and suddenly she stopped squirming. He bowed his head and seized her mouth with his. At first, Erin didn’t respond, simply enduring his kiss; but her body was already reacting, feeling the familiar, welcome weight of Jarod’s: her lips parted, allowing him to explore with his tongue the warm depths of her mouth, and she spread her legs, so she could feel his hot desire against her lap. She sighed, and her body surrendered to Jarod’s.

But her mind was into open conflict with her body.

“What are you trying to do...?” she panted when he left her mouth. Jarod kissed her on the side of her neck, under her ear, tickling gently with his tongue her sensitive skin.

“I’m trying to make you understand how much I love you”, he whispered, breathing into her ear and making her shiver, “Your body already knows it: accept it, you too...”

Erin writhed weakly, trying to fight the waves of yearning that were irresistibly overwhelming her. Her hardened nipples pushed against her clothes, plainly visible through the bra and the light fabric of her dress. She moaned, feeling Jarod’s lips closing around one nipple and biting it gently.

“Just an automatic reaction”, she tried to protest, “It’s a traitor...!”

Using his teeth, Jarod had managed to open the first two buttons closing her dress on the front.

“It isn’t a traitor”, he murmured, brushing his lips on the soft mounds of her breasts, “It knows the truth.”

It was that last line that caused her sudden capitulation: Jarod was right, all of her being was screaming it aloud, and she coulnd’t help but yield to the power of her feelings.

Jarod sensed her surrender and let her wrists go, withdrawing just enough to look into her eyes. Promptly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him again to her, pressing her lips on his in a greedy kiss. She needed reassurance; she needed the physical expression to feel sure about his love for her, and wanted him to take her on the spot.

Jarod didn’t need more encouragement: in a few seconds, he undid completely her dress, almost ripping its buttons, and lifted her bra. He cupped her soft mounds, pressed them together and licked avidly her stiffened nipples. Erin gasped in pleasure, clawing his shoulders as she caught fire. A moment later, she felt his fingers in her panties, searching and teasing her, and with a groan, she pushed her pelvis eagerly forward to allow him touching her better. Her depths pulsed in longing, while waves of heat shot through her.

A frenzy he had never felt in his life was possessing Jarod. Not a single thought crossed his mind, dimmed by yearning; he tore off Erin’s panties, lowered his slacks and boxers along and, with a single fluid movement, he plunged in her warm deepness.

Possessed by the same irrepressible hunger, Erin welcomed him inside of her gasping with relief, enjoying the feeling of his hard male shaft, filling up her wet female cavity. They needed only a few minutes before coming together, in an almost brutal orgasm that wringed high cries of pleasure from them and left them exhausted in each other’s arms, their breaths broken.

Afterwards, Erin laughed. A crystalline laugh that warmed up the heart and that affected Jarod, too, making him laugh hard. The shaking movements of their bodies caused more spasms of pleasure, so a few moans interposed the laughing.

“We fucked like two rabbits”, Erin giggled. Jarod grinned briefly, then he became earnest again and kissed her long and deeply.

“We do not _fuck_ ”, he told her under his breath, “We _make love_ : frantically, quickly, even wildly, but we’ll always and only make love, because we love each other.”

She felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“Gosh have I been stupid!” she whispered, “How can I make it up to you?”

He raised a little and looked at their still joint bodies, wrapped in their messy clothes.

“I could say you started well...” he said mischievously. Erin stuck her tongue to him, and Jarod tried immediately to seize it with his mouth. Both burst into laughter again, but in a short time, their laughs faltered, replaced by the soft sounds of kisses. They began to make love again, this time steadily and with immeasurable tenderness.

 

 

OOO

 

They went downstairs for dinner. Their radiant faces were so eloquent that Sydney had to restrain a large smile, and Miss Parker, too, not being compelled anymore in her _Ice Queen_ role, as she was nicknamed at the Centre, let her amusement show. Broots instead, thinking of his daughter’s imminent arrival, didn’t notice anything.

Shortly after, they heard the sound of an approaching helicopter and went outside to see the landing. The aircraft touched ground at a few hundred yards from the building and stopped the rotor; a pretty girl of about fourteen came out, throwing herself in Broots’ open arms, followed by two smiling female FBI agents.

“It’s fantastic, daddy!” the girl cried, very excited, “I want to learn driving ‘copters!”

“It’s called _flying_ , Debbie”, her father corrected her smiling, hugging her heartily, “And if you really want to, when you’re grownup I’ll send you to a piloting school, okay?”

Debbie hugged then Miss Parker, who, to Erin’s great surprise, returned her hug warmly. Seeing her face expressing a real love for this girl, at once Erin changed her mind about the woman she had believed to be a rival: she wasn’t at all as cold and merciless as she had looked to her, but she was instead full of warmness and compassion. All of a sudden, she wished they would become friends.

After dinner, they went back to the drawing-room to chat: nobody was sleepy, they were all too much excited about the news arriving from the Centre: Mr. Raines had confessed, Lyle had rebelled and had therefore received a harsh lesson, and the FBI and NSA agents had found so much evidence in the computer files, they wouldn’t even need Raines’ admissions to incriminate them all.

“I hope they’ll lock them in the Centre cells”, Jarod commented with a certain fierceness, “This would be very ironic.”

At that moment, his cell phone rang and he left the room to answer it without disturbing the others.

He stayed away quite a long time, and when he returned, his face had an incredulous look.

“Parker”, he called.

Miss Parker, who was having an interesting conversation with Erin, turned to look at him slightly annoyed.

“What?” she barked, than chuckled, remembering that she hadn’t to play anymore the tough-at-any-cost role, “I mean… what’s up, Jarod?”

“You won’t believe what I’m going to tell you”, Jarod began, walking to sit down next to her on the couch, “The agent who’s in charge of the operations at the Centre has the task of informing me if they find any classified file referring to you, Sydney, Broots and the others. Well, they found one about you… and Thomas Gates.”

Miss Parker turned pale. They had killed Tommy over four years ago, but the pain for his death was still unbearable.

“What’s in it?” she asked in a thin voice. Erin wondered how she could possibly have judged her heartless. Gosh, appearance can really deceive!

“Parker… Thomas is not dead. He’s alive…”

“ _What_?!” she cried, placing one hand on her throat as if she was about to choke, “How’s it possible? It can’t be true… I found him dead, murdered in front of my house…”

“I know, I know…” Jarod interjected, taking her other hand to calm her down, “The truth is that they couldn’t kill him and get away with it. How do you think they’d cover up everything in such a short time? Only by eliminating the few witnesses? Not even they are really dead, everything has been made up…”

“But… but he didn’t breathe, his heart didn’t beat… Christ, they’ve shot at his head!”

_Believe it, baby_ , said Catherine Parker’s voice in her mind, _Believe it, because it’s true_.

“You, too, know that there’s some stuff capable of simulating death perfectly”, Jarod replied, “The blow on his head was bad, but not mortal, and he survived, as they had planned. Then they had the coroner paid to sign the death certificate.”

Miss Parker had accepted the news by then, however she asked all the same:

“But why would they do something like that?”

“If you’d rebel again, they’d disclose to you he was still alive and would threaten to kill him for good this time, if you wouldn’t do what they wanted you to…”

Miss Parker nodded slowly:

“Yeah, this would be perfectly their style… and I’d accept, so they wouldn’t hurt him… Curse them!”

She drew a deep breath to calm down and asked:

“Where is he, now?”

“He’s in a psychiatric clinic controlled by the Centre, in California.”

“A psychiatric clinic…?”

“Yes, because of the blow on his head, he lost his memory”, Jarod explained, “All his functions are normal, but he remembers nothing about himself, not even his name. They call him _John Doe_ there.”

“And… is there any hope he’ll recover from his amnesia?”

“Doctors think that maybe a strong shock could help him in recalling his past. Who knows, maybe seeing you…”

“I must go immediately to him!” Miss Parker cried, urgently.

“I’ll arrange it”, Jarod said, standing up and leaving the room.

If ever Erin had still had doubts about the real nature of their relationship, now they would have been swept away: the love they shared was absolutely brotherly.

“I’m happy you found your partner”, she said in a low voice, “I know how it is, losing the man you love.”

She was indeed perfectly sure that the pain for a forced separation is no different at all from the pain for the death of the beloved person: in both cases, your heart splits and you feel crushed, annihilated.

Miss Parker looked at her with a faint smile:

“Thank you, you’re nice.”

Her reaction convinced Erin that they would become friends.

 

August

 

In the following weeks and months, everything found his best conclusion.

The Centre executives were all sentenced to life imprisonment, save Raines who, much to Miss Parker’s annoyance, died of a striking leukaemia during the trial; the organization’s noticeable resources were put under control of a government corporation specially created by the President, who would formally lead it and would make periodic checks on its activities.

They found Mr. Parker in the Virgin Islands; he was arrested and taken to the United States, where he confessed everything and was convicted like everyone else.

Jarod and Erin moved in in her house at Santa Lorita.

Miss Parker joined Thomas, who, as the doctors had hoped, thanks to his love for her, which had never died, began to remember his past. When he was discharged, they moved in in a nice house at Sausalito, in the outskirts of San Francisco, and took with them little boy Parker, who soon grew attached to Thomas as he were his father.

Broots followed the example of the two couples and purchased a detached house at Berkley, to the north of the metropolis, where he settled down with his daughter.

At this point, Sydney thought about to move to those neighbourhoods with Michelle and Nicholas, and he, too, opted for Berkley, where Nicholas would achieve his degree and maybe seek for a chair in that renowned university. He took with them Angelo, who settled in a small flat over their garage, so that he could be independent but, at the same time, stay under the psychiatrist’s affectionate eyes. A male nurse called for him every day, and soon the two of them became friends.

Meanwhile, Jarod contacted again his father, Major Charles, who in a short time came to Santa Lorita with Jay and Emily, where they found and purchased a nice house. They gave a regular identity to Jarod’s clone, as it had already been done with Jarod: both were said to be sons of Charles and Margaret Russell.

With the help of the FBI, within a few weeks they found Margaret, and so, a family that the Centre had destroyed was finally reunited.

And at last, when they had almost given up hope, they found even Ethan, who through his father was Jarod’s brother and through his mother, Miss Parker’s; a very weird relationship, but as at the Centre had happened even weirder things, none of them was amazed, less than ever scandalized. Ethan was welcomed in the Russell family, which adopted him formally, but the young man chose to live by himself in a flat not far from his father’s house: they would need much time to build up the confidence that characterises a family relationship, and maybe not even a whole life would be enough, but there was good will from all parts, and so there was hope.

 

Saturday, August 31st, 01.15 p.m.

 

That very morning, Jarod and Erin had received two excellent news. The first one came from Lloyd Darnell, the publisher friend of Jarod, who told them the publication date of Erin’s book and invited them to the gala for the official launch, in New York, early in October. The second one was an invitation to a wedding: Thomas Gates and Miss Parker announced their marriage, which would take place at the end of the following month. Jarod and Erin had been very happy to accept the invitation, even more when Miss Parker had told them they wanted Erin as the bridesmaid and Jarod as Thomas’ best man.

They had just finished to lunch in the garden, under the gazebo, and they were sipping coffee. Both wore bath-suits, having spent the morning swimming and sun soaking.

“I cannot believe it yet”, Erin said, her gaze as bright as stars, “I’ll see my novel published for good!”

“I know you hate this line, but this time I tell it to you all the same”, Jarod said laughing, “ _I told you so_!”

She uttered a threatening grumble, but she was giggling and so she wasn’t convincing at all.

“Okay, I admit I deserve it”, she acknowledged, then took Jarod’s mug, now empty, stood up and put away the last crockery in the basket she used to carry them back and forth from the kitchen.

“I’m really happy for Parker”, she stated, changing subject, “Because of the Centre, her life hasn’t been less sad and loveless than yours, and she deserves all the happiness on Earth.”

Jarod stood up in turn, placed his hands on her shoulders and made her gently turn to him. Then his hands slid down, stroking her arms, until he clasped her wrists; eye to eye, he wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You, too, deserve happiness”, he told her in a low voice, “Are you happy, Erin?”

She looked deep in his dark eyes and read in them all his love for her.

 

“I never thought it was possible to be so much happy”, she answered softly, brushing the nape of his neck, “And you, Jarod?”

Her touch, as light as a butterfly, made him shiver.

“I never thought it was possible to be so much happy”, he stated quietly.

His words, as it happened often, reached directly her heart; Erin crushed her body against his and kissed him. Jarod returned passionately her kiss and, as usual, she felt the flame of desire flaring up inside of her. With the tip of her tongue, she caressed his lips, which he promptly parted, and Erin plunged her tongue in the warm deepness of his mouth in a searing kiss.

Jarod gasped; every time Erin responded this way to his prompts, he felt his head swirling. His hands began to wander all over her body, going through the curves of her elegant back, down to the bottom. He gently squeezed her buttocks and then, caught by a sudden impulse, he grasped and lifted her, sitting her on the edge of the table, now empty, and pressing himself between her spread legs.

They made love passionately, moving together, waving in the eternal, primitive dance of love, pushing and withdrawing at an ancestral rhythm, climbing together to the topmost pleasure, giving and taking at the same time, expressing through their bodies what their souls felt, in the most complete way that is allowed to human beings. When at last they reached the peak, they felt the deepest and most prolonged pleasure they had ever experienced in their lives, so that they almost fainted and had to cling to one another in order not to drop.

Trembling and stunned, they supported each other until they regained strength, then they looked at one another in the eye, in wonder and amazement.

“I… think I’ve just come and gone from Paradise”, Jarod declared in an undertone. Erin nodded:

“I, too…” she whispered, still dazed.

Jarod searched for her mouth; they kissed desperately, and then held each other tight for a long time, exchanging soft caresses full of tenderness.

At least, their stiffened bodies forced them to pull away, reluctantly, and they got dressed again.

“It’s time to uncork that bottle we have in the fridge, don’t you agree?”, Jarod exclaimed unexpectedly; seeing Erin looking at him slightly puzzled, he explained smiling, “It turned out all well: the Centre has been destroyed, my family lives just a few blocks away, my best friends live within a few miles, they, too, reunited with the people they love and, above all, I have _you_ … There’s nothing on Earth, _nothing_ , that I could still wish. All this deserves to be celebrated, don’t you agree?”

Erin nodded, and a bright smile, that smile of hers that always thrilled him, curved her beautiful lips:

“You are perfectly right.”

While Jarod was looking for the champagne bottle in the kitchen, Erin took two crystal glasses out of the cupboard in the drawing room and placed them on a silver tray. Jarod arrived with the ice bucket, where he had placed the bottle, and together they returned to the gazebo. Here, Jarod uncorked the champagne and poured it in the glasses, inclining them to avoid too much froth; he handed one to Erin.

“ _Slàinthe mhath_!” she cried, in the typical Gaelic toast, “To the end of a nightmare.”

“And to the beginning of a dream”, Jarod returned with a tender smile, which she returned.

They sipped the wine; then Erin looked at him in the eye, solemnly, and said:

“I love you, Jarod.”

Like every time she told him so, he felt moved to the most hidden deeps of his soul; he stooped and kissed her softly, tenderly.

“I love you too, Erin”, he murmured on her lips, before kissing her again, “You make me the happiest man on Earth.”

Erin wrapped her free arm around his neck.

“I think indeed that, from this moment on, making you happy will be my favourite job”, she announced him, her serious expression denied by her laughing eyes.

“You won’t need to work hard”, Jarod stated, holding her, “Just love me forever.”

“ _Forever_ is a very long time”, Erin pointed out earnestly, and smiled, “Who knows if it’s enough…”

Their eyes locked; in this bright late summer Californian afternoon, both recognised in the other one’s gaze the awareness that the feelings they shared would have the strength to resist at the passing of time, until the end of their lives, and further on, into eternity.

 

The End


End file.
